


Marked for the Graves.

by BountifulRide



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Jon Snow didn't go to The Wall, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Jon Snow, Don't Like Don't Read, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Multi, Multiple Partners, No White Walkers, Post - Red Wedding, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BountifulRide/pseuds/BountifulRide
Summary: What if Jon left the Night's Watch to join his brother against the Lannisters.What if Robb Sent him to Essos to recruit the Company of the Rose.Read it to find out more.





	1. Prologue

**Ser Jaime Lannister:**

It seemed queer to him to sit in the Lord Commander's seat where Barristan the Bold had sat for so many years. And even queerer to sit here crippled. Nonetheless, it was his seat, and this was his Kingsguard now. Tommen's seven. It's been a week since he freed the Wench and gave her a squire. She was now away from King's landing searching for the Stark girls. It was not like to win him back his honor, but the notion of keeping faith when they all expected betrayal amused him more than he could say.  
  
Suddenly, he heard the door open; he closed the White Book and stood to receive his Sworn Brothers. Ser Osmund Kettleblack was the first to arrive. He gave Jaime a look, "Ser Jaime," he said, "Lord Tywin requested your presence at once."  
  
“what is it?” he barked out.  
  
“I don't' know, Ser. Your uncle informed me to get you,” he breathed out. “he said the matter was urgent.”  
  
Jaime nodded and scurried off from the white tower. He walked through the Red Keep and reached the Tower of the Hand, where his father moved the small council to. He opened the door and immediately felt a sense of doom among the members. Lord Tywin was silent clutching a scroll of some sorts hard in his hand. He was white as chalk. His eyes and his mouth were frozen wide open.  
  
His Uncle Kevan Lannister was seated alongside with a stunned look. The fat oaf of Highgarden was unnaturally silent, breathing heavily in his hands. Even the red viper, Prince Oberyn was in silence, staring at the wine glass with malicious eyes. The spider was sitting neatly in his chair, arms folded into the long sleeves of his robes, powdered face still and peaceful. Pycelle was literally weeping his eyes out.  
  
“What happened?” Jaime questioned walking toward the table.  
  
“I'm afraid there's been bad news, Ser Jaime,” it was the Spider who opened his mouth.  
  
“Explain.”  
  
“Casterly Rock has fallen,” the spider said composedly.  
  
Jaime felt his breath leave out his lungs. His bowels suddenly churned. His mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the news he barely heard. Just when he thought the war was over that the kingdom will move towards peace someone rose up and conquered the Casterly Rock, his home. Didn't lose enough already? His brother was in the black cells. Joffery was dead. The one thing that Jaime valued all his life wasn't part of him anymore. And now his home was taken likewise.  
  
“Seven hells!” he cursed silently. “Casterly Rock....No. This is just a nightmare. A terrible nightmare,” he thought. There was no way The Rock had fallen. Never in history, it had fallen.  
  
“How?” was the only word came out of his mouth.  
  
“We don't know the details, but it was Jon Snow who did that,” his uncle Kevan answered. “He killed every man inside the castle including Emmon Frey, Damion, and his son.”  
  
“Aunt Genna?” he breathed out, wanting to know of the woman who raised him and his siblings.  
  
Lord Tywin looked at him and passed the scroll to Jaime. Jaime banged his golden hand as he opened the letter. The letter was written in blood.  
  
  
  
_Dearest Tywin,_  
  
_Our home has fallen! I don't know what to say more. I'm writing this letter with the blood of my husband and my sons still in my hand._  
  
_A small army of Five thousand men lead by Jon Snow stormed the Rock in the middle of the night and put every man in the castle to death. They stormed from the drainage pipes that connect to the sea. He fed Emmon to his direwolf and beheaded Damion after he refused to surrender. His men killed the remaining men and imprisoned the women and children. He demanded me to say that Lannisters aren't the solitary ones who repay their debts. Death and Destruction await us._  
  
_He is willing to trade us for the prisoners, including his sister Lady Sansa Stark and his father's valyrian steel sword._  
  
_Your sister,_  
  
_Genna Lannister-Frey._  
  
Jaime crumpled the letter and threw it on the table. “What we are going to do now?” he shouted at his father.  
  
His father stood up from his seat, with a furious look. “We are going to march towards the Rock.”  
  
“How?” he barked. “It's a fool's errand to march on Casterly Rock. It'll take years for us to siege the castle and if Winter comes...” he stopped. Didn't want to say what would happen to the army if Winter hits them during the siege.  
  
“You are right but what other choices do we have?” his father growled in return. “ we don't have Sansa Stark. Every moment the bastard holds the castle, it's a humiliation for me, for us, for the Lannisters.”  
  
The entire room fell into an uncomfortable silence once more. His father was right, there was no other way. They have superior numbers. The only solution was to storm the castle and put an end to this war, but the victory wasn't guaranteed. Casterly Rock can be defended with just two hundred men against fifty thousand.  
  
“We should do what he asked of us,” Kevan Lannister said to everyone's shock. “Give him the prisoners and the sword.” Lord Tywin looked at his brother.  
  
“This is madness!” Mace Tyrell grumbled.  
  
Ser Kevan directed a disgusting look at the fat oaf, “It's for temporary peace. Winter is coming. Give him what he wants and let him go North to face the Boltons. Even if he wins, the northerners are angry. They will march south again once they gain enough strength. We can rebuild and face him then.” His uncle next looked at his father, “It's time to act smart rather than to act with our emotions.”  
  
“We still don't have Sansa Stark,” the spider quipped.  
  
“Tell him the truth and hope he'll accept it.”  
  
“Send the raven,” Lord Tywin announced looking at Ser Kevan.“Inform him that he'll have his prisoners and the sword only if he returns the castle back.”  
  
"My lord?" Grand Maester Pycelle challenged his father. "Are you sure that's wise?"  
  
The hand of the King stared at the old man, “You heard what I said. Casterly Rock is worth more than that bastard. We'll slaughter him later." he growled and left the council room.  
  
  
  
  
  
**Jon:**  
  
Jon was standing at the window and staring at the ocean from the lord's chambers at Casterly Rock. He did it. He did what no other man in history had done it. He conquered the Casterly Rock, the ancestral seat of House Lannister. In revenge for his brother, his king.  
  
Even Jon didn't imagine how his like would turn out when he left Winterfell to join the Night's Watch. They told that Night's Watch was an honorable order, but he witnessed what it was in its raw state. A dumping ground filled with scums. He left the Watch when he heard his father had been attacked. He joined his brother's army and fought with him. He advised Robb on many things, but his voices went unheard among other noble voices. He told Robb not to send Theon back to the Iron Islands. He advised Robb not to marry the Westerling girl but his brother did just that and paid his price with Blood. Jon would have perished in that cursed wedding as well if it wasn't for his brother. Robb sent him and Dacey Mormont to Essos to recruit the Company of the Rose.  
  
The Company of the Rose is a sellsword company, founded by his ancestor Brandon Snow, who rejected his half-brother Torrhen Stark's submission to Aegon the Conqueror and thus chose exile over bending the knee.  
  
Jon roped them for their cause but before they could set sail, they heard the news of the Red Wedding. It was the day, all the life in him died. He wanted to avenge his brother and wanted to paint Westeros with the blood of the Lannisters, Boltons, and Freys. He explained this to the commander of the Company of the Rose but the fool brushed him off, saying it was a lost cause. Thus, Jon challenged the commander. That's how things were done among the men of the company. The fool accepted and dueled Jon, cursing his bastard status all along. Jon silenced him with a sword through his neck. Since then, the company named Jon as their commander and pledged their swords.  
  
Despite their valor, The Company of the Rose was a mercenary company. He knew he needed Gold to keep them on his side. And there was only one place where the Gold was in abundance, Casterly Rock. And he knew the information what no one else knows. When traveling to the Wall, the Imp accompanied him and after getting drunk with the strong Northern ale, the Imp spilled the information that there was a secret passage that he built when designing the sewage. To smuggle his whores. The same information which made Jon set sail for the Casterly Rock and capture the castle quickly. He killed every man but didn't have the heart to kill the women and children.  
  
A sudden snore disturbed his thought. Jon turned to his bed and smiled at seeing the beautiful naked woman sleeping on the bed. He walked slowly and removed a few strands of hair from her face and let out a sigh. Jon still remembers when he and Dacey started their trysts.  
  
  
  
**Flashback:**  
  
They just won a great victory against the Lannister forces in the Whispering Woods and captured the Kingslayer in the process. He was resting when he sensed a woman standing in his tent. It was Dacey Mormont. She's the daughter of Maege Mormont, Lady of Bear Island, and the heir to the Bear Islands. She fought alongside Jon and Ghost earlier in the day. Jon first hand witnessed what she can do with that mace of hers.  
  
"Pick your sorry ass up, Snow," she said taking his sword from the floor. "Let's have a spar."

"A spar?" he questioned.

Dacey nodded, "You did well today. Let's see how you do against a Mormont." His body was sore. He wanted to refuse but deep down knew very well that backing off wasn't an option. He nodded and garbed his leather armor. They traveled deep into the forest to find a spot.

The setting sun shone bright red and the wind gushed around them as Jon and Dacey danced with steel in their hands.  
  
He watched her with squinted eyes as the Mormont woman met his every thrust with her own mace. Her eyes were huge shone brightly with anger and excitement, a deep brown, and bored into his, both locking eyes with the other.  
  
Back and forth they pushed each other until he had her at a disadvantage, he thought. Her back was to a tree, and he rushed forward to disarm her, but her booted leg caught his knee and he stumbled but managed to control himself from falling to the ground. Dacey brought her down at him but Jon blocked her strike with his sword. It was then something in him exploded and suddenly all sound and smell disappeared and all he could see were those eyes, softer now, he swore, and her lips, full and open. Knowing he was insane, he pushed his sword and her mace away with his free hand and pressed his mouth to hers, forcing his tongue into her open mouth, biting her lips, as she returned the savage kiss, her tongue forcing into his mouth, exploring the roof of his mouth, his teeth, sucking his tongue between her lips.  
  
He didn't even care that the women before could kill him in an instant, he was in ecstasy, smelling her sweat, her desire, tasting her hot mouth. She heard a thumping sound when he pushed her against a tree, as she guided his hand beneath her breeches, pulling her fabric undergarment clear, then tearing at his leather pants while his hand reached into her body and pleasured her, the hot damp mossy cave pulling his fingers in and the unique female anatomy his to explore.  
  
She found his stiff cock and then it was her turn to gasp. Her wide eyes widened further as she grasped it, her small calloused hand wrapping around it and pulling it to her body. He put his own hands over hers and guided it into her cave, and then another, more intimate spar began, and he pumped into her, harder and faster, her quiet gasps and moans feeding his passion even more. Jon wasn't a maid. He had his fair share of tumbles with Ros, a red-haired whore in Wintertown but fucking had never been good as it was now. Maybe it's the woman, that made this tumble a special one.

He thrust her so hard, her entire body shook as she slammed into the tree, but her hands were beneath his own clothing, urging him on, alternately squeezing him and forcing him further into her.  
  
Everything around them disappeared as he slammed her over and over, his hot hard cock thrusting into her as hard and deep as he could, her hands moving around to cradle his balls, tickling them as they bounced and danced in her hands. He could take it no more and he withdrew and threw her to the ground, leaping onto her like a bull after a cow in season. Sweat dripped from his face onto hers and the hunger in her drooping eyes met the hunger in his own. He again thrust into her, slamming her into the ground this time, as she rose up to meet him. Her fists slammed his back, her mouth reached for his as he felt her squeeze him with every gush of passion that she released, each one accompanied by a small shriek of pleasure, his head thrown back, great animal noises coming from them both.  
  
As he released, he pushed himself so deep into her he thought she would split in two, but again, she met his savagery with her own, forcing herself up to meet his thrust. She growled like a bear when her peak hit her hard and taking every drop of him as he followed her, moaning and gasping in pleasure. Since then they were hardly seen without each other's company. They fought against the enemies harder and fucked even harder.  
  
He even asked her to marry him, but she refused. Jon was disappointed but not unhappy. Now his family was gone, Dacey remains as his only companion, his most loyal advisor and his lover.

* * *

  
  
A sudden knock broke his train of thoughts. Jon picked up his breeches and went to the door after wearing it, to cover his nakedness. He opened the door and saw his squire Lawrence Snow, the natural son of Lord Halys Hornwood standing outside. "What is it, Lawrence?"

"A raven for you, my lord," he replied and handed him the scroll. Jon collected it and walked towards the desk in the middle of the room after closing the door. It was a scroll from King's Landing. Tommen Baratheon's seal was on the front.  
  
  
_To Jon Snow,_  
  
_We received the raven you sent for us. It's mentioned that you want to inflict death and destruction to Westeros but we, with a noble cause, decided to make peace with you._  
  
_Enough lives had been lost in this war, and it's up to you to decide whether the bloodshed wants to continue or not._  
  
_These are our terms:_  
  
_You will leave Casterly Rock and the prisoners. We'll trade prisoners from our end as well and your father's sword reforged into two longswords._  
  
_As if you heard it or not, Lady Sansa Stark is not in our captivity. She escaped after killing King Joffrey and is at present wanted for murder._  
  
_Lord Randyll Tarly will travel to the Casterly Rock and will reach within the moon with the Northern prisoners, only Northern prisoners and two hundred of his own escort. You'll hand over the castle and my family._  
  
_Accept this; the crown will let you live in that frozen wasteland of yours. Deny, you'll join the like of Reynes, Tarbecks, and the Targaryens._  
  
_Regards,_  
  
_Lord Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King._  
  
Jon clenched his fist as he read the letter and threw it on the desk. Lady Genna Lannister told him that Sansa escaped after the purple Wedding but he refused to believe it. he sent his men to gather the information and they said the same. He sighed thinking one more family lost to him. 

“What is it?” he heard a female voice from his left. Jon turned and saw Dacey was awake.  
  
“A raven from King's Landing,” Jon replied simply. Dacey looked at him and walked towards the desk, her naked body in full display. She picked it up and read it.  
  
“What are you going to do?” she asked after going through the letter.  
  
“I'm going to accept,” he said after thinking about it for a few moments.  
  
“You are going to do what?” she questioned. By the looks on her face, he knows she wasn't happy.  
  
“Winter is Coming,” he said looking at her. “I'm not going to sit here and grow fat when our people suffer in Winter.”  
  
“We caught them by their balls,” she growled. “You can't surrender this castle.”  
  
“This castle worth nothing to me,” he barked at his lover. “Winterfell is my home. We are going to sail North and take her back from the Boltons.”  
  
“What about the Freys and the Lannisters?”  
  
“They can wait for their turns.” he sighed and stood up to cup her face. “If we want to win this war, we have to think like our enemies. We have no other moves in the south except wait here for them to come. The terms they proposed were a temporary one, and we are in no position to refuse it.”  
  
“You can least leave a garrison here.”  
  
“And what do you think will happen then?” he replied and pulled Dacey against his body. “The Iron Throne have superior numbers. One way or another, the castle will fall and the men will die. One member of The Company is worth more than twenty southerners.”  
  
He kissed her then and she let him. “We have to play smart,” he whispered against her lips, trailing his hand to cup her heavy breasts. “And the next time, we are going to do what King Theon Stark did to those Andal invaders,” he promised, picking up her lover and carrying her to the bed.  


* * *

  
  
  
Thus, the negotiation process was begun between the bastard of Winterfell and the Iron Throne. Lord Randyll Tarly arrived with two valyrian steel swords forged from House Stark's ancestral sword and the Northern prisoners, including Ser Wylis Manderly, the heir to the White Harbor and Lord Greatjon Umber. They met with a party of five hundred men led by Jon Snow. The other men led by Lady Dacey Mormont sailed to the North three weeks ago to establish a war camp in the North. They left with all the resources that they scourged. As promised, the bastard handed them the castle and the prisoners before sailing towards his home.

In King's Landing, Lord Tyrion Lannister's trial was postponed due to the sacking of Casterly Rock by the Northern Forces. Lord Tywin also deduced that it was Tyrion who outed the information about the Casterly Rock's drainage design to a then stranger. Along with the murder of King Joffrey, the Imp was also in the trial for letting out a huge secret about Casterly Rock. Before the day of the trial, the Imp was found dead in his cell, poisoned. Some say it was his sister Cersei others whispered Lord Tywin's name but none were dared to question the Queen Reagent and the Hand of the King.  
  
The news of Casterly Rock's fall by Lord Stark's bastard reached everyone's ears, including Lady Sansa and Lady Arya Stark. Lady Sansa was in Vale under the alias Alayne Stone, the bastard of Lord Baelish and Lady Arya was traveling with Sandor Clegane. Upon discovering the information, the favorite sister of Lord Stark's bastard decided to reunite with her brother, escorted by Sandor Clegane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please share your thoughts so that I can improve.


	2. Jaime II

**Ser Jaime Lannister:**

A cold rain was falling, turning the walls and ramparts of the Red Keep dark as blood. Ser Jaime Lannister, all in white, stood beside Tyrion's corpse as it was laid out in one of the rooms in Maegor's Holdfast. His brother gone from this world exactly like he was born, unloved and unwanted. Very few mourned his death and much fewer visited him. Tyrion didn't deserve this. He saved this city from Stannis and now the entire city was celebrating his death.  
  
"It hard to lose a sibling, isn't it?" A sudden voice broke his thoughts. Jaime turned around saw the notorious Red Viper standing at the entrance, his paramour beside him. He strolled in and stopped just before Tyrion's corpse. He looked at the corpse for a few seconds and sniffed a bit. "It's the strangler," he said looking at Jaime. "The same poison that killed your son."  
  
Jaime stared at the man. "I have no son, Prince Oberyn," he told sternly.  
  
The Dornishman chuckled much to Jaime's anger, "If you say so, Ser Jaime."  
  
Jaime didn't possess the patience to deal with the man, "What do you want?" he lashed out.  
  
Oberyn raised his hands in an innocent manner, "I'm merely here to pay my respects."  
  
"You did. Now, you can leave."  
  
"I heard it was your father who killed your brother," Oberyn smirked before coming to stand before Jaime and looking at him from head to toe as if he was measuring Jaime. "Is it true?"  
  
"Baseless rumors," Jaime shot back quickly.  
  
"Baseless rumors, eh?" the red viper questioned. There was a mocking edge to his voice that Jaime misliked. "I wouldn't consider it to be baseless considering how it was your brother who leaked the information of a secret tunnel. The information that leads the bastard of Winterfell to capture your home, humiliating your father in the process."  
  
"The bastard will get what's coming for him."  
  
"Are you sure about?" the Red Viper questioned with a raised eyebrow. "The last time, a Stark and his heir were killed in the south, the second son rose against the king and took down the greatest empire the Westeros had ever seen."  
  
"For a Dornishman, you seem to admire them a lot, your highness."  
  
"Strange as it sounds but I admired Lord Eddard Stark a lot," the dark prince chuckled in humor.  
  
"And why is that, your highness?"  
  
His eyes as black and shiny as pools of coal oil staring back at Jaime. "He exacted retribution for his family which I'm yet to do."  
  
There it is. The Dornishman's vengeance. Of all the occupants in the Red Keep, the Dornish Prince has more reasons to kill a Lannister. "Did you kill Joffery and my brother, Prince Oberyn?" he asked wanting to know.  
  
"I don't know what I did to make you come to that conclusion," he defended innocently in his dornish accent.  
  
"Two murders in a matter of few moons," Jaime answered, running his hand on the pommel of his sword. "Both happened after your arrival."  
  
"I have no conflict with your brother and your son." the dark-haired prince said. "My anger lies elsewhere."  
  
"Everyone knows you hate House Lannister."  
  
"I hate the monsters who killed my sister and her children." Oberyn clenched his jaw, clearly angry. "And if I seem to recall, you were in the Red Keep at that time. Sitting on the Iron Throne after killing the mad king, fancying yourself as the King where you should have been protecting my sister and her children from your father."  
  
"I didn't know my father was going to do that," he wanted to scream. "Their deaths still haunt him in the nights," he wanted to yell but kept silence knowing very well it'd have no effect of the Dornish prince. "My father didn't do it?'  
  
"Who then?" asked the Red Viper, in a tone grown markedly less cordial.  
  
"It was Ser Amory Lorch," he lied. Lord Tywin already informed them of his plan to blame the deaths of Elia Martell and her children entirely on the deceased Amory, to circumvent giving Gregor Clegane over to Prince Oberyn Martell. "He was torn apart by a bear after the fall of Harrenhal."  
  
"Spare me your Lannister lies. Is it sheep you take us for or fools?" Prince Oberyn spat at him. "My brother is not a bloodthirsty man, but neither has he been asleep for sixteen years. I did not come for some mummer's show of an inquiry. I came for justice for Elia and her children, and I will have it. Starting with this lummox Gregor Clegane . . . but not, I think, ending there. Before he dies, the Enormity That Rides will tell me whence came his orders, please assure your lord father of that." He smiled. "An old septon once claimed I was living proof of the goodness of the gods. Do you know why that is, Kingslayer?"

"I'm sure it's a fascinating tale," said Jaime.

"If the gods were cruel, they would have made me my mother's firstborn, and Doran her third. I am a bloodthirsty man, you see. I will make sure Lannisters aren't the one who pay their debts."

"I would watch my mouth now if I were you, Your Highness!" Jaime snapped.

"A cripple commanding me to watch my mouth," Oberyn laughed. Jaime wanted to take his sword and cut off this fool's head but kept in silence as the Dornish prince laughed at his face.

"Where were you, Prince Oberyn?" Jaime asked suddenly not to suffer any more jests. "When Princess Elia and her children were alive and kept as prisoners here in the Red Keep."

His eyes were darkened, and Jaime saw Lady Ellaria Sand clutching her lover's hand. "Let's go, my love," she said. Both men stared at each other for a few minutes.

It was then the door opened and Pycelle entered the chamber. "A letter from your niece, Your Highness." The old coot bowed and handed a scroll to Prince Oberyn. "Your brother is sick and your niece urges you to come home."

"You opened my letter!" Prince Oberyn growled and grabbed Pycelle by the throat.

"Forgive me, your highness," the old maester coughed. "Considering the recent tidings, Lord Tywin asked me to monitor the communications."

Jaime interwinds just in time and put himself between the two men, removing Prince's hands from Pycelle's throat. Oberyn threw one last murderous look at Jaime before marching away from the room.

 

* * *

 

 

After arranging his brother's corpse to be transported to Casterly Rock, Jaime made his way towards his father's solar. His father at the least gave Jaime the permission to take the Tyrion's corpse to Casterly Rock, much to the charging of his sister who wanted Tyrion's body to be thrown into the sea. He opened the door and saw his father on his chair behind the desk. Lord Tywin's chain of hands made a golden glitter against the deep wine velvet of his tunic. He motioned Jaime to sit. "Who is taking Tyrion's body?" Lord Tywin asked grimly.

"Ser Bronn and Tyrion's squire Podrick."

His father nodded. "We enquired the men but they pleaded innocence of poisoning."

"Did you do it?" Jaime blurted out, wanting the answer that'd been itching on his mind. It's either Lord Tywin or Cersei.

His father looked at him disapprovingly. "Did you take me for a kinslayer?"

"Did you or did you not?" he asked bitterly.

"No!" told sternly by Lord Tywin.

"It was you who visited him the last." Jaime made his own inquiry and found out that Lord Tywin visited Tyrion on the night of the murder.

"You are right. I did visit him, but it wasn't to kill him." Jaime waited in silence as Lord Tywin continued. "I offered him to take the black and be my eyes and ears in the North".

"Black?"

"Only for a few years. I offered him the chance to redeem himself for the House Lannister, and he accepted."

"Then who killed him?"

"As I said, we don't know. We may never know."

"That's it?" he questioned. "We are letting it go."

"We have other important things to take care of!" Tywin shouted standing up from his seat. "Here," he said and handed him a document. "You are released from your King Guard post by King Tommen Baratheon."

Jaime locked eyes with his father, "I refuse."

"You have no say in that," growled Lord Tywin. "One-handed knight is a liability for the King."

"I want to be here!"

"Sit down!" he commanded and Jaime obeyed. "Do you know how much harm this war caused us?" Tywin asked his son but only received silence in return.

Jaime knew exactly what the war did to Westeros. Riverlands is in shambles. North is in full-blown rebellion. Gods only know what's been happening in the Vale. Stannis still in Dragonstone, no doubt planning his next move. Redwyne fleet was docked at the Blackwater Bay, ready to transport the army to Dragonstone to end Stannis Baratheon.

"The fall of Casterly Rock will be the rallying cry for our enemies," Lord Tywin said again, vexed."Even now they are laughing behind our back."

"That's where they belong. Behind us."

"You are always a fool. A goddamn fool," Lord Tywin shouted at his eldest son, now the only son and took his seat opposite to Jaime. "I'm asking this once and for all. Where does your loyalty lie?"

"My loyalty lies with my king."

"Then ride to Riverrun and end the bloody siege," his father ordered looking at him. "Blackfish is holding the castle with enough resources to last for years."

"I pledged Lady Stark that I won't take sword against her family."

"And what of the pledge towards your king," he questioned silently. "This war is far from over. We need the complete control of the Riverlands if we want to repel those Northern Savages."

"I will do as you ask but I will do it as the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," Jaime told sternly.

His father stared at him angrily. "Fine."

"What are you going to do about the bastard?" Jaime asked in anger. The northern bastard captured his home, killed his family and humiliated his house.

His father has narrowly looked at him. There were no emotions in his face. "There is naught we can do. He extracted all the resources and sailed for the North."

"How much do we lost?"

"Doesn't matter how much. Gold we can earn but not another Casterly Rock. That's why I negotiated with him much to my shame," Lord Tywin said with a frown.

"We should send our army to the North and end that bastard once and for all."

"Why didn't the Andals think of that?" Lord Tywin said mockingly. "North had never fallen except for the Dragons. We have to execute this carefully."

"What about the faceless men?"

"They won't do it," his father sighed in annoyance. "Have you ever read anywhere in the history that faceless men ended a war?" Jaime shook his head in denial.

"Precisely." his father said. "They maintain an agreement with the Iron Bank and the bank thrived on wars."

"So it's a waiting game then?"

Tywin nodded. "He will march once again," he said in his authoritative tone and walked over to the window overlooking the city. "We will deal with him then."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last King's Landing chapter for a while. Next several chapters will focus on the North. Maybe Dorne.


	3. Jon II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in Saltspear. 
> 
> https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Saltspear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the chapters are short but the fact is I usually spend only an hour or two a week in writing this. This is just a hobby of mine. I wanted to post this chapter last week but went away for the weekend. 
> 
> Also, apologize for the mistakes you'll find in this chapter. I wrote this on my mobile. So, if you find any mistakes, leave a comment.

JON:

 

Night fell slowly over the horizon, the serene moon shining her path across the water, an invitation and a mystery like so many things upon the sea. Suddenly, a cold wind blew from the north, and a chill set into his bones. He looked up to the sky and then felt something soft and wet touch his face.

 

"It's starting to snow," a sudden voice interrupted his thoughts.

 

Jon turned to his right and saw Lord Great Jon Umber standing beside him. The Greatjon he once knew was a proud, boisterous, and fierce man. Now he was merely a shell of his former self. His once cheerful nature was gone from him on the same night his son was killed right in front of him.

 

They were on the sea for the last three weeks now. In normal days, it'll take only a weak to reach the shores of the North from Casterly rock but Jon ordered the ship captain to take a detour in caution. Didn't want to run against the Ironborn. The squids maybe cunts but that didn't take away the fact they were formidable to face in the sea. They sailed west from the Casterly rock and then turned towards the Northern direction. Currently, they are approaching the Blazewater Bay.

 

Blazewater Bay is a large bay of the Sunset Sea along the western coast of the North. It sits north of Cape Kraken and south of the Rills. It extends east into the Saltspear, which is fed by the Fever River.

 

"Winter is coming, Lord Umber," Jon replied simply and turned towards the sea once again.

 

The old man groaned, "What are our plans?" he asked.

 

"We will sail to Saltspear. Dacey and the army are camped there. From there we will decide our further steps."

 

"What news you have of the Boltons?"

 

Jon sighed, "So far I have none. I tasked Dacey to contact Lord Howland Reed and gather all the information."

 

Lord Umber nodded, "I need a sword. A greatsword."

 

Jon then turned his attention to the big man, "Are you sure you can fight, my lord?"

 

"If it was anyone, I would have crushed their skull for saying that," he boasted. "When I was a prisoner at the Twins, you know what kept me alive?" Jon remained in silence as the Lord of Last Hearth continued, "my hunger for the vengeance. If I am to die then I'll die but not before bathing in Roose Bolton's blood."

 

Jon nodded, "How is Ser Wylis Manderly?" The Manderly knight hardly spoke any word ever since Lord Tarly brought him in chains to Casterly Rock. The other prisoner Harrion Karstark was sick when he arrived at Casterly Rock and the journey only made it worse. He passed away a week ago. His corpse was kept in the lowermost cabin. The crew told Jon to throw the corpse in the sea but Jon didn't have the heart. Once docked, the body will be sent to Karhold as goodwill. Hopefully, it'll be enough to gain Lady Alys Karstark's allegiance.

"He is getting there," Greatjon replied simply.

They heard sudden footsteps and turned to see Jon's squire Lawrence Snow making his way to them. "The captain said we'll reach the Saltspear by dawn, my lords."

 

That night Jon had dreamt of Winterfell. He was wandering the empty castle, searching for his father, descending into the crypts. In the dark, he’d heard the scrape of stone on stone. When he turned he saw that the vaults were opening, one after the other. As the dead kings came stumbling from their cold black graves, Jon had woken in a pitch dark, his heart hammering. Even when Ghost leaped up on the bed to nuzzle at his face, he could not shake his deep sense of terror. He dared not go back to sleep. Instead, he had walked, restless on the ship's deck, until he saw the light of the dawn off to the cast.

 

"Sails ahead!" Jon heard a sudden shout from the ship's pole. He followed the direction and noticed three ships are sailing towards them. There were flying the Starks colors. "It's Lady Mormomt," the scout shouted as Jon watched the three approaching vessels. Within a few minutes, Dacey's ships came near and Dacey boarded Jon's flagship _'Winter Fury'._ Lord Umber was the first one to greet her, crushing her with a bear hug.

 

"Tell me you have something," Jon said walking up to Dacey. She nodded and Jon escorted her to his quarters with Lord Umber and Ser Wyllis Manderly trailing behind.

 

"I have both good news and bad news," she announced standing in the middle of the room.

 

Jon knitted his eyebrows, "What's the bad news?"

 

"Roose Bolton had made it to the North. He took a ship from the Saltpans and reached the Dreadfort."

 

"And the good news?"

 

"He sailed with only a few of his men. His army is now marching from the Twins to the North."

 

"He probably heard of your triumph against the Lannisters and rushed to his home," Lord Umber said with a murderous look.

 

Jon nodded, "What of Moat Cailin?"

 

"Still with the Ironborn. The Crannogmen are doing what they do best, thinning the forces inside."

 

"Victarion Greyjoy?"

 

"He left the North. He sailed with a handful of his men to the King's Moot," Dacey announced and poured herself a horn of ale. "Rumor is that Ramsey Snow is now marching towards the Moat with an army."

 

"If Moat Cailin falls to Ramsey, the Bolton army will make it to the North," Jon said and everyone in the room nodded.

 

"We should attack the Moat," Ser Wyllis opened his mouth for the time.

 

"First we need to know more about Ramsey's army," Jon said running his hand through his hair. "If the rumors are true. Then let the Boltons and squids kill each other. We can finish the remaining."

 

Dacey chuckled and nodded. "there was also few surprises waiting for you at the camp."

 

"What surprises?"

 

"You'll see," Dacey replied with a smile.

 

"What surprises?" Jon asked sternly, not in the mood to enjoy Dacey's games.

 

"My mother is alive," she said with a sweet smile, tears forming in her eyes. "She and Lord Galbert Glover were commanded to meet with Lord Reed before the..." She trailed off and Jon quickly went over to her and pulled her to an embrace.

 

"Bloody Maege!" Lord Umber roared and hugged Ser Wyllis.

 

"I'm glad," Jon said running his hand against Dacey's back.

 

"There are lot more things we have to discuss," she said and Jon agreed. By afternoon they reached their war camp and he saw the men were waiting for him. He saw Lady Maege Mormont and Lord Glover as well. Jon nodded at them and then went on to greet them.

 

There was also another man with them. He was wearing a shirt of bronze scales and wielded a three-pronged spear and a leather shield.

 

"Lord Reed. I presume?" Jon said towering over the crannogman.

 

"Commander Snow," the small man greeted in return and came to touch Jon's face. "You do really look like your father."

 

Jon smiled. "Is there any news of your children, my lord?" Jon asked the lord of Greywater Watch. Last they heard, Lord Reed's children were in Winterfell to attend the harvest feast and taken as hostages during the fall of Winterfell. Robb received the news of Bran and Rickon's death but no mentions of the Reed children.

 

Suddenly, Ghost pushed both of them aside and ran toward a massive tent, wiggling his tail. Lord Reed chuckled at seeing his direwolf's antics. "There is something you need to see, commander," Lord Reed said escorting Jon towards the big tent at the center.

 

Jon's breath caught in his lungs as he entered the tent. He remained immobile as he realized who was waiting for him. There were six figures in the tent but his eyes settled on the boy sitting in his wheelchair.

 

"Bran?" Jon's eyes slowly filled with tears. Before he knew it, he was hugging his brother tightly, tears dripping from his cheeks on to his dark tunic. "How?" he asked.

 

"We didn't die," Bran answered returning the embrace.

 

"Rickon," Jon said and walked over to him. Rickon was taller than the last time Jon saw him. He was standing behind a woman. Not any woman, a wildling. Robb told Jon about the wildling he captured. Osha was her name. She is tall and lean, standing a head taller than Jon. She has a hard face and shaggy brown hair.

 

He knelt to level with the boy but he remained behind Osha clutching her leg and watching Jon with his blue eyes, "It's me, Jon. Do you remember me?"

 

The boy's face was a moving shadow, confused with emotions and his eyes finally settled on Ghost, "Ghost?" he called out in his childish voice and the white direwolf sprinted towards him. Jon watched with teary eyes as the boy ruffled Ghost's white fur happily and immediately joined by the other two direwolves in the tent.

 

"Young lord needs some time," Jon heard a woman's voice. He looked up and saw Osha was looking at him.

 

Jon nodded at the woman, "Thank you," he said. "For protecting them."

 

The wildling nodded and Jon turned his attention to Bran. "How did you escape?"

 

"We faked an escape and hid in the crypts," Bran replied motioning the other occupants.

 

"These are my children, Commander Snow," Lord Reed said walking over to the people Bran mentioned. "Meera and Jojen Reed." Meera is short and slim. She has long brown hair knotted behind her head, green eyes, and small breasts whereas her brother was also short and slim but born with unusually deep green eyes. Jon thanked both of them and then went on to greet Hodor, who laughed innocently seeing Jon.

 

"What happened after that?" Jon questioned further.

 

"When Theon failed to find us, he murdered the miller's boys and present their flayed bodies as us to the people of Winterfell. We escaped from Winterfell after that," Bran answered with a saddened look. "We know that Ironborn will be on our trails. So, we went to the wall to see Uncle Benjen. He protected us and brought us to the Greywater Watch safely."

 

"Uncle Benjen?' Jon muttered in disbelief. The last time he saw his uncle was when he went ranging leaving Jon behind at the wall. Soon after Jon left the Night's watch and joined his brother. Robb received a raven after their father's death from the wall that their Uncle had returned. Since then there was no communication between them. "How is he?" he inquired his brother.

 

"He was heartbroken that he couldn't do more for us," Bran answered. "he only left for the wall a moon ago, after we heard the fall of Casterly Rock."

 

Lord Reed cleared his throat and Jon turned towards him. "Benjen rode to the mountains on his way to the wall and convinced the clans to march for the Starks." Lord Reed then took out a scroll and handed it over to Jon, "3500 mountain men are ready to attack the Deepwood Motte. They are waiting for the command from their King."

 

Jon nodded, "We should crown Bran immediately then."

 

Dacey looked uncomfortable, "there is something else you need to know."

 

"Let the Commander freshen up. We'll then have a council meeting to discuss our future," Lord Reed said cutting off Dacey.

 

The heir to the Bear Islands looked at the Crannogman but nodded none the less. "I'll inform the other lords," she said and scurried off from the room leaving Jon in confusion.

 

Lord Reed noticed his confused looks, "Everything will be explained. Now go and make yourself presentable."

 

 

 

 

Saltspear : https://awoiaf.westeros.org/index.php/Saltspear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please share your thoughts regarding this. I enjoy the comment section and genuinely it helps me a lot. 
> 
> Next chapter will be posted within this week. It'll continue from where this chapter left off.


	4. Arianne I, Jon III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the comments. 
> 
> A kind request. Please don't comment asking of Jon's mother. I have absolutely no intention to reveal his mother in this fic. 
> 
> So it's your choice. if You like R+L=J then R+L=J it is. If you like N+A=J, then N+A=J it is. 
> 
> That's the beauty of writing Jon Snow. We can write him to be anyone. Snow, Sand, Stark, Targaryen, and even Dayne.

**Princess Arianne Martell:**  
  
"Princess," said a voice she'd known from childhood. Areo Hotah stood over her, her old friend and protector.  
  
Arianne smiled, "I want to speak with my father."  
  
Areo nodded and opened the door for the Prince's solar. She found Doran Martell seated behind a cyvasse table, his gouty legs supported by a cushioned footstool. He was toying with an onyx elephant, turning it in his reddened, swollen hands.  
  
He smiled kindly at seeing her and Arianne dropped on the chair next to her father. "Uncle's Oberyn's arrived at the docks," she said simply. Prince Doran nodded. She still didn't know why her father informed her to call her uncle back from King's landing.  
  
"Why did you lie to him? " she asked after a few minutes of silence.   
  
Prince Doran smiled wanly. "Leave us, captain." Hotah stamped the butt of his longaxe on the floor, turned on his heel and took his leave. "I need him here," her father answered simply once Areo closed the door.  
  
"You are the who sent him to King's Landing," she said taking a mango fruit from the tray.  
  
Her father smiled. An actual smile. Arianne couldn't remember the last time she saw him smile. "That was before the fall of the Casterly Rock."  
  
"What that got to do with inviting Uncle Oberyn here?"  
  
"I want to speak with him," her father told simply.  
  
"A raven would have been more comfortable."  
  
It was then the door opened with a sound and his uncle marched right through the door, growling. "Where is he?"  
  
"I'm here, brother," the prince of Dorne answered calmly.  
  
"The Raven said, " her uncle trailed off but quickly realized the truth seeing his brother. "You lied. "  
  
Prince Doran nodded. "I don't want to raise any suspicions," he said drinking his wine.  
  
"You are right. Tywin was monitoring all the communication. " Oberyn replied accepting the wine that Arianne poured.  
  
"Tell me," Doran smiled. "How did Tywin Lannister react when he heard the fall of Casterly Rock?"  
  
That put a smile on Oberyn's face. "You should have been there, Doran. He looked he was slapped by a ghost."  
  
Her father chuckled, "Good. " He took a sip of wine, "What do you know of this Jon snow?" Jon Snow. That was the name on everyone's lips nowadays. There were already tales spreading of him around Westeros. A bastard boy who made Lord Tywin to shit in his breeches.  
  
"Nothing that you didn't already know."  
  
"Do you think he will make a good ally?" her father asked. It piqued Arianne's interest.  
  
"I don't know Doran," Oberyn replied. "if you want, I'll travel to the North."  
  
Prince of Dorne shook his head, "You should go to the King's Landing. Maintain your position in the small council. " Her father then turned towards Arianne, "Bring Obara, Nymeria and Tyene."  
  
Arianne nodded and left her father's solar to find her eldest three cousins. After a few minutes, she found all three of them in the sparring yard. All four of them entered Prince Doran's solar and saw him smiling and chatting with his brother. He saw them approaching and greeted with a smile.  
  
"I want all three of you to travel to the North," he announced looking at her cousins.  
  
"North?" Obara questioned.  
  
"Did you hear the story about Jon Snow?" it was Oberyn who asked his daughters. All three of them nodded.  
  
"I want all of you to get acquainted with Jon Snow," Doran said calmly.  
  
"Why?" it was Nymeria who questioned.  
  
"Did you forget your manners?" Oberyn barked at his daughter. It was very unusual for him to raise his voice against his daughters. "If your uncle wants you to do something. You'll do."  
  
Doran waved at him, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'? " Everyone nodded in confirmation. " Travel to the North, gather all information you can find and report it back to me. "  
  
"How do we get acquainted with him? After the Red Wedding, the Northerners will be very wary of the outsiders, " Tyene asked innocently.  
  
"You'll tell the truth," Doran replied simply. "Tell him, only him that Prince Doran wants to know him and sent all of you to spy on him. Tell him that Dorne is very much interested in making an alliance with him and will join his war against the Lannisters."  
  
"We can send Quentyn too?" Arianne added.  
  
Prince Doran shook his head, "Quentyn is going to Meereen to treat with Daenerys Targaryen."

 

 **Jon:**  
  
  
  
After a short bath and some food to his belly, Jon was then escorted to the council meeting. The meeting was scheduled to take place in a tent, the same one where Jon met with Bran and Rickon. Four long trestle tables arranged in a broken square. Bran and Rickon were seated facing north. Hodor and Osha standing behind them, and the two direwolves were at their feet. Jon went straight to them and took the vacant seat next to Bran. Lord Howland Reed and his children were seated opposite, facing the Starks. Lord Glover, Lady Maege Mormont and Dacey on the left and that leaves Lord Greatjon Umber and Ser Wylis Manderly on Jon's right. This meeting was much less chaotic than the one Robb conducted when he was crowned as the King In the North.  
  
Everyone was watching at each other, hoping that someone would commence the proceedings. Jon let out a huge breath and stood up from his seat. "My lords and ladies," he called. "All of you know why we are gathered here." Jon paused and noticed that everyone was looking at him.  
  
It was then Lord Howland Reed stood up from his seat, looking at Jon. "I have to something to announce to the council. Do I have your permission to speak, Commander Snow?"  
  
"Go ahead, Lord Reed."  
  
Lord Howland nodded and took out a parchment. He upended it high in the air to everyone's display, "This was delivered to me for safeguarding by Lady Mormont and Lord Glover before that God-forsaken wedding," he announced. Jon was surprised, to say the least. He had questions but kept in silence as Lord Howland paraded the parchment.  
  
"What is it?" Lord Umber asked banging his ale horn at the table.  
  
Lord Howland ignored Greatjon and looked at Jon, "This is the last will of your brother. King Robb Stark." He then marched forward and gave the parchment to Jon. He opened the parchment but paused after reading a few lines and heaved a shallow breath. The information had knocked every wisp of air from his lungs, and he was struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. He looked up with teary eyes and saw everyone was observing him.  
  
"What does it state?" Jon heard the rasping voice of Ser Wylis.  
  
"King Robb Stark before his death made a will. He legitimized his half-brother Jon Snow as Jon Stark," Lord Howland said looking at Lord Umber and Ser Wylis. "In the event of his death, His Grace also nominated his half-brother the direct heir to the Northern Throne unless a son was born to him."  
  
"It's invalid," Jon said clearly and threw the parchment on the table. "The Will was made without any knowledge of Bran and Rickon's survival. Bran should be the King."  
  
"We went through the will with your Uncle Benjen," Lord Glover said suddenly. "Technically, the Will didn't mention anything about young princes' deaths. The King disinherited your sister Sansa Stark and named you as heir."  
  
"Exactly, my lord. Only Sansa was removed from the line of succession," Jon sighed. Lord Glover looked like he was about to argue but stopped when he heard Bran's voice.  
  
"I forfeit my claim!" Bran announced to everyone's surprise. "I lost it when I surrendered Winterfell to Theon."  
  
Jon closed his eyes in exhaustion. "You did what you had to do," he said after a few moments.  
  
"However I have no claim," he replied with a determined look. "Robb appointed you his heir for a reason, and I respect his wishes."  
  
"Then Rickon should be the King. I'll be his reagent."  
  
"Rickon is a child. He needs his family, not the crown."Bran shot back. "If you push me any further, Rickon and I will join the Night's Watch."  
  
Jon sighed, "You can't do that, Bran."  
  
"I can and I will."  
  
"Prince Brandon is right," he heard the sudden voice. Of course, it's Lord Greatjon Umber. He was the one who declared Robb as the King in the North and here he was again. "No disrespect for the young princes there but I'd rather follow the man who made the mighty Tywin Lannister to bow down."  
  
"This is not right, Lord Umber," Jon protested.  
  
"Do you think Aegon the conqueror had any right to Westeros?" Lord Umber shouted. "He conquered the Westeros because he can. Now you have all the power to conquer the North, and I'll follow you. In life and in death."  
  
"Father tried to do the right thing," it was Bran who spoke this time. "Robb tried to do the right thing and both of them died in a most dishonorable way." Jon sighed and then heard Lord reed's voice.   
  
"Ned was my greatest friend. Do you think he wanted to be the Lord of Winterfell?" Jon waited in silence as Lord Howland spoke. "It was his bother Brandon's. But Ned was pushed to the position and he did his duty very well. It's time for you to do the same, boy."  
  
"Winter is coming," Lady Maege Mormont said standing up from her seat. "We need a man to lead us through these tough times, and who's better than who did the impossible. The wolf who conquered the Casterly Rock and sucked it dry."  
  
"I loathed your presence when you were in King Robb's council." Lord Glover said. "And I was wrong. A man can only ask for forgiveness when he was wrong."  
  
"There are many wars to come," Lord Glover continued. "House Glover stood behind House Stark for thousands of years and I'll stand behind Jon Stark."  
  
Another figure stood up from his seat. "A thousand years before the Conquest, a promise was made, and oaths were sworn in the Wolf's Den before the old gods and the new. When we were sore, beset and friendless, hounded from our homes and in peril of our lives, the wolves took us in and nourished us and protected us against our enemies. The city is built upon the land they gave us. In return, we swore we should always be their men. Starkmen!" Ser Wylis announced looking at other lords and ladies. He then turned his attention towards Jon and went on take a knee. "I, Ser Wylis Manderly, the heir of the White Harbor, herby name Jon Stark as my King in front of Noble Lords and Ladies of the North. I pledge my sword and my life to him."  
  
Lord Reed then looked Jon in the eye, "There are men who struggle against destiny, and yet achieve only an early grave. There are men who flee destiny, only to have it swallow them whole. And there are men who embrace destiny and do not show their fear. These are the ones that change the world forever." He then came to stand before Jon. "Step aside the bastard and embrace your destiny."  
  
Jon stood up from his seat and observed everyone's eyes on him. He looked at Bran, who nodded and Jon turned to face the others, who were following his every moment. He looked at them and gave a slight nod. It was all it took for them take out their weapons and they knelt laying out their weapons at his feet.  
  
“The King in the North!”  
  
“The King in the North!”  
  
“THE KING IN THE NORTH!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment. It's the only that kept the fanfic writers going.


	5. Jon IV

**Jon:**

 

“The King in the North!”  
  
“The King in the North!”  
  
“THE KING IN THE NORTH!” they screamed as Jon stood still as a statue. He dreamt of becoming the Lord Of Winterfell when he was a child but always knew that's what it is, a dream. But now, here he was. The King in the North. The King of Winter. Jon Stark. He shifted his eyes to Dacey, who was screaming along with other Lords, a slight smile adorning her face. He slowly raised his hand to silence the lords, and they obeyed. It'd be a lie if he says he didn't like this sudden shift in power. Except for the Mormonts, none of the men respected him when he was with Robb. Everyone called him a bastard and a wimp for leaving the Night's Watch but now everyone is on their knees, bowing to him.  
  
"Take your seats, My lords," he announced. "And ladies."  
  
"I don't want to waste any more time," Jon announced sternly. "Lord Reed informed me that my uncle Benjen Stark managed to secure the Mountain Clans for the Starks."  
  
Lord Reed stood up from his seat, "Lord Hugo Wull sent his riders informing us that 3,500 mountain clansmen were waiting, hiding outside the Deepwood Motte."  
  
"What of Lady Sybelle Glover?" Jon asked. Lady Sybelle Glover was the wife of Lord Robett Glover, Lord Galbert Glover's younger brother. She and her children were taken as prisoners after the fall of Deepwood Motte.  
  
"The mountain men confirmed that Lady Glover and her children were taken to the Iron Islands by Asha Greyjoy, Your Grace." Lord Reed then threw a glance at Lord Glover, "But we don't know where."  
  
"Lord Glover!" Jon called out and observed anger in the said man's eyes.  
  
"Your Grace!" he bowed and Jon enjoyed the sight.  
  
"Take the army and sail to Deepwood Motte. Regroup with the Mountain men and launch an attack on the castle," Jon commanded.  
  
"Entire army, Your Grace?"  
  
Jon nodded, "Only five hundred men who stayed with me at Casterly rock will stay here. Barrowtown is near. So far we have managed to hide but its only a matter of time before Lady Dustin send her scouts and I don't want to compromise our position. Lady Mormont will accompany you."  
  
Everyone agreed. "I will set off at first light, your Grace."  
  
"I can hide a small army in the swamps. My king," said Lord Reed.  
  
Jon nodded and shifted his attention to the Lord of Deepwood Motte. "Capture as many men as you can and torture them for the information," Jon told sternly. "I want Lady Glover's location and all the information those squids have on their countrymen," Jon added.  
  
Lord Glover nodded and took his seat.  
  
Lord Reed then looked at Lord Umber, "Your uncles Mors Crowfood and Hother Whoresbane gathered a thousand men. They are waiting for your orders, my lord."  
  
"Those old fucks," Greatjon exclaimed. He next looked at Jon, "I need to send a raven to The Last Hearth, my king."  
  
Jon nodded, "Ask your men to stay put, Lord Umber. We require them during our march against the Dreadfort."  
  
Lord Glover then stood up, "My brother Robett is in White Harbor. He sent a message that Lord Wyman Manderly has four thousand men. They are in a standby position, Your Grace."  
  
"Let them be," Jon announced. "But first, we need a castle to house our forces. We should concentrate on Moat Cailin now."  
  
"Lady Dacey Mormont informed me that she heard a rumor that Bolton Bastard is now marching against the Moat," Jon informed the council. "I want to know whether it's accurate or not."  
  
"My son Jojen will find out more, Your Grace," Lord Reed announced. Jon didn't know how a young boy would find the information they require but retained his silence, trusting the Crannogman.  
  
"If possible, spread the rumors," Jon said looking at people before him. "Make it look like the entire Stark's army is outside Deepwood Motte, ready to launch an attack on the castle."  
  
"That wouldn't be a problem," Lord Reed assured with a wicked smile.  
  
Ser Wylis then stood up and cleared his throat. "Your grace," he addressed Jon. "I understand this is not the occasion, but it's wise for you to marry soon."  
  
"Ser Wylis is right, Your Grace." Lord Umber agreed with the knight of White Harbor.  
  
Ser Wylis nodded and looked at Jon, "I offer my youngest daughter, Your Grace. Wylla is a bold spirit and would be a worthy Queen. She always spoke from the heart ... not every woman can be as brave as my Wylla."  
  
"Lady Wylla would be an excellent match," Jon heard Lord Glover say. "But Lady Alys Karstark would be a wise match for you. It will end the animosity with the House Karstarks once and for all."  
  
At that point, a sudden commotion broke out between Ser Wylis and Lord Glover. Jon looked at his lover, who was following the announcement with an amusement. Jon caressed his face, clearly wasn't ready for the marriage. It was next he heard a loud bang. Jon looked up and saw Dacey was standing up from her seat, her mace buried on the table in front of her.  
  
"My lords!" she called out. "Both Ser Wylis and Lord Glover are correct. Lady Alys and Lady Wylla, both are a worthy match but I have a different solution," she announced and threw a smirk at Jon.  
  
"What solution?" Lord Umber asked.  
  
Dacey ignored him and fixed her stare solely on Jon. "Let him marry both of them," she announced taking the breath away from Jon. He coughed in surprise but managed to compose himself.  
  
"Two wives?" Ser Wylis asked is disbelief.  
  
"Why not?" she said. "It'll unite the North under the Stark name. Lady Wylla's children would be the Starks of Winterfell and the heir to the North and Alys' children would be the Karstarks of Karhold."  
  
Jon was too stunned to open his mouth but thankfully Lord Glover distracted him by talking in sense. "My lady, it's unheard of."  
  
"I'm certain you have all heard of the legend about Garth Greenhand," Dacey announced. "Before the Andals, he was the king of the First Men. He sowed his seeds all along the Kingdom and his children founded several of the Noble houses in the Reach including the Redwynes and the Florents."  
  
Dacey looked at all of the occupants with a smirk. "And make no mistake my lords. There sits the current King of the First men," she said pointing at Jon.  
  
Everyone was in stunned silence and suddenly Lord Umber broke out in a chaotic laugh, striking the table with his hands. "I like it!" he said in between laughs. "Aegon the cunt had two wives. Maegor the Cruel had six. It was only after that, and the faith put a stop to the polygamy but fuck the seven! WE ARE IN THE NORTH AND THE OLD GODS RULE HERE!!!"  
  
"Only Incest, Slavery, and Kinslaying are considered as sins in our customs," Lady Maege added supporting her daughter.  
  
"I accept," Jon heard Ser Wylis' consent. "The Manderlys worship the seven but make no mistake my lords and ladies, we are of the North as well and I'll happily give my daughter's hand in marriage to the man who saved me."  
  
Everyone nodded at Ser Wylis and then turned their attention to Jon. He looked around and saw everyone's eyes on him. He was hoping someone would oppose such madness, but none of them did. Even Lord Reed was looking at him with interest.  
  
"I have to think about it," he said merely. "Give me the night to consider the offer," he announced and walked out of the tent after patting Bran on his shoulders and ruffling Rickon's hair. 'This is fucking crazy!' he mumbled to himself and kept on walking, with Ghost shadowing him.  
  
He went deep into the woods and let out a huge breath that he didn't know he was holding. It felt like a relief. Not even a king for an hour, it already feels like his head is about to explode. 'This is madness' he whispered to himself and what was worse is that it was Dacey, his lover, who suggested this madness.  
  
Suddenly, he heard a crackling sound of the twigs from behind. Jon spun around and saw Lord Reed was standing behind him. His son was with him.  
  
"Please, you should talk some sense into them, Lord Reed," he pleaded.  
  
"There is nothing to talk, Your Grace," Howland Reed answered casually. "They are right."  
  
"This is madness!" Jon argued. "You know what happened with the Greystarks, right?"  
  
"I do," he replied politely. "If my memory serves correct, they lived peacefully for five centuries before taking up the arms against the Starks of Winterfell."  
  
"Exactly! They joined hands with the Boltons and rebelled against House Stark," Jon replied. "What if I accept this plan of my lords and centuries later someone rose up against House Stark?"  
  
"You are thinking too much, Your Grace." He chuckled. "You can't oversee what would happen in future. Karstarks are your kin as well. They stayed loyal to the Starks of Winterfell until your brother beheaded Rickard Karstark." Jon remained in silence as the Lord of Greywater Watch continued. "The only thing you can do for your kingdom is to leave it in a better place than it was before. Your marriages will unite the North by blood. Your children would be siblings and exclusive lords of different castles. With proper alliances in future, the noblest Stark blood will run merrily through every noble house of the North."  
  
"I need some time to think about all of this, Lord Reed," Jon sighed in exhaustion.  
  
"That you require. Meantime, I propose my daughter's hand in marriage as well."  
  
"What?" Jon coughed.  
  
"I don't want Winterfell or the rulership of the North, Your Grace." He subsequently came to stand before Jon, "There is power in you. The power that was long forgotten in these parts. With the marriage with my daughter, I hope the power will pass on to my grandchildren."  
  
"What power?" Jon questioned.  
  
"You are skinchanger, my king," it's Jojen Reed who answered and then he came to stand at ease in front of Ghost.

"Skinchanger?"

"You are having those wolf dreams, aren't you?"  
  
"How do you know?" Jon stuttered.  
  
"One skinchanger can always sense another, Your Grace," he replied. "Your brothers too. Bran is the strongest among all of you."  
  
"Bran?" Jon breathed out.  
  
Jojen nodded, "I've been training him all this time."  
  
"It is a gift, Your grace," Lord Reed said looking at him. "The gift is strong in you, but the youth was untaught, still fighting nature when you should have gloried in it."  
  
"I don't know what to say, my lord," Jon said looking at the ground. "This is all too much."  
  
"I understand," Howland put his hands on Jon's shoulders in an assuring way. "But remember this, Your Grace. Wars are won and lost because of marriages," he said at last and left Jon alone with Ghost. Jon stumped against the tree and closed his eyes in exhaustion. He didn't know long he had stayed like that but by the time he woke up, it was dark. Night had fallen across the sky with only the moon illuminating the woods that he was in. With a heavy sigh, he lifted himself and made his way towards the camp. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck the seven! WE ARE IN THE NORTH AND THE OLD GODS RULE HERE!!!
> 
> Dacey is in this fic is a good version of Tyanna of the Tower
> 
> Comments are most welcome. 
> 
> Smut ahead.Ahoy!!!


	6. Chapter 6

As he neared his tent, he already sensed there was someone inside. With caution, he opened the tent and walked slowly but let out a sigh recognizing who it was. “What are you doing here?” he asked removing his sword belt and placing it on the table.

“What does it look like?” came the reply.

“You know you are not supposed to be here,” Jon said looking at the woman inside his tent. Except for her head, everything was submerged into the bathtub.

“This isn't the first time I have taken bath in your tent.”

“Now things are changed.”

“Hmm,” Dacey hummed with a mocking tone. “So the kingship changed you?”

“You know bloody well that's not the reason,” he barked harshly. “I would have wed you in a heartbeat.”

She looked at him, a playful smirk donning her face, “I know damn well that's what you have done.”

“Then why did you put me in this situation?” he lashed out. “arranging marriages with not one but three women.”

“Three?”

“Lord Reed also offered his daughter's hand in marriage,” he replied.

Dacey chuckled, “I really don't understand why are you so troubled over all these. Other men would kill for this.”

“I don't deserve this.”

“I'm not a fool, Jon,” she replied and then rose from her bath, the water dripping off her slender body. Jon gulped at the sight of her. He had witnessed her naked countless times but here in the north, the cold winds whistling around them and the flickering light from the candles made the water droplets on her body to look like diamonds. The sight was enough for his cock to stand up in attention inside his breeches. “I had known the ambition inside you. I had seen the hurt in your eyes when those men disrespected you when you were with your brother.”

Jon stayed frozen as Dacey walked towards him. Her breasts were firm and slightly conical toward the tips, with raised and dark aureoles, which were rapidly puckering from the cold. She lessened the distance between them and snaked her hands around her neck. “Look at them now. Kneeling before you, offering their daughters to the boy, they once called 'A Bastard',” she whispered in his ear, flooding his mind with erotic thoughts.

“This is all too much,” he managed to breathe out amidst her ministrations.

“Allow me show you how rewarding all these would be,” she whispered biting his earlobe and cupped his cock. Dacey smirked at his face noticing how hard he was and suddenly knelt before him, her face directly at the tent formed in his breeches. His breathed sharply as she released his cock from the breeches. She wrapped her fingers loosely around the base of his cock and shifted it to her mouth, licking a hot wet stripe up the underside.

Dacey moistened her lips, then grinned up at Jon like she was the one about to get off.  
  
“Now imagine, your grace,” she said flicking her tongue around the head. “Four women doing this to you, worshipping you,” she said and opened her mouth wide, sliding her fucking tongue out along the underside, and took his cock all the way.  
  
“Fuck!” Jon gasped, just as she closed her lips around his dick and began to suck in earnest, setting up a rhythm between her mouth and her hand, smooth and quick and even.  
  
"Harder," he demanded, and Dacey eagerly obliged, feeling a little lost, pleasure drunk on the hypnotic movement and the steady murmur of sound that Jon was making; only half words and only half of those intelligible.  
  
She advanced the pace, pressing her tongue hard against his slit with every other stroke until he was mostly moaning, both hands held her hair tight, forcing her to go deeper.  
  
Dacey choked out as his cock hit her throat continuously but didn't pull away, just kept sucking hard and insistently while he panted above her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, just like that...seven hells, Dacey!"  
  
Her reply was mostly gagged and suddenly Jon grabbed her wet hair, elevating her to meet his eyes. Without a second thought, he pushed his lips into hers, drowning at the feel of his tongue wrestling with hers. “I want you,” he whispered into her.  
  
“A King shouldn't ask,” she moaned in return. “He takes what he wants.”  
  
Jon growled and heaved her off the ground, his hands clutching her luscious arse. Dacey for her part circled her long legs around his hips and rubbed her cunt over his hard cock. He carried her to the sleeping furs at the corner of his tent and deposited her carefully onto them. Jon took a moment to appreciate the beauty beneath him. She was taller than him with big tits and a small patch of dark hair on her cunt. Her pale skin shone exotically at the dull light inside the tent.  
  
He removed his tunic and fell on top of her, kissing her as if his life matters on it. Jon cupped one of the silken mounds in his hand and hefted it as if judging the weight. He stroked the soft skin and stroked his fingers lightly over her erect nipples. She shuddered at the touch and moaned.  
  
He grasped the tip of her breast and roll, the tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger. She cried out, and he continued to torment her nipple, twisting and pulling the sensitive nub. Then he directed his attention to the other nipple, pinching and twisting it mercilessly all the while the woman whimpered, moaned and shifted wildly beneath him. He moved his right hand lower and cupped her cunt. Staring at her closed eyes, “Look at me!” he commanded and Dacey obeyed. He inserted two fingers inside her and found her already wet.  
  
Dacey rolled her head to the back and let out a huge moan. “Fuck me, your grace!”  
  
“Say that again!” he growled.  
  
“Fuck me!” she pleaded.  
  
“Call me your grace!” he commanded caressing her sensitive spot. “That should be the only word you'll say.”  
  
She managed to compose herself amidst Jon's continuous fingering, “Your Grace,” she said with a smug.  
  
That's all it took for Jon to kick his breeches from his knees and brought his hardened member to her wet cunt. His whole body shuddered in need and he drove fiercely into the welcoming heat beneath him.  
  
“Your grace,” she moaned. The more she moaned and whimpered, the more it drove him to take her. His bit and suck neck all the while kept pounding into her mercilessly.  
  
Dacey's nails scraped across his chest and back, feeling him shudder and quake atop her. His cock throbbed and swelled and her hips rose to meet his every thrust. Both were breathing hard and damp with sweat. Her body ached, but he was impossible to ignore. He brought the fire out in her that she never knew she had. All too soon she was quaking with the release, crying out her pleasure as he continued to rut into her. “Your Grace! Your Grace! Your Grace!!!”  
  
The woman's release only seemed to draw the beast out in Jon. He gripped her and drove himself harder and deeper inside of her. Her screams only drove him harder. It wasn't long until he was quaking in his own release, his seed spilling forth to fill the heir to the Bear Islands.  
  
Dacey curled against him, her head rested in the crook of his shoulder. Both were panting as he pulled the furs against their naked bodies.  
  
“See it wasn't so bad,” she said kissing and biting his neck. “Soon you'll have other women with you, my horny wolf.”  
  
“I want you with me,” he told. “And that's an order from your king.” Dacey chuckled and kept kissing him.  
  
The following day the announcement was made to his lords that their King accepted the marriage proposals. It was greeted with cheer. Lord Glover and Lady Maege Mormont took the entire army except for the five hundred men and set sail for the Deepwood Motte. Jon subsequently ordered the remaining men to rally for the Neck.  
  
  
  
**Arya Stark:**  
  
The sky was grey, and the rain fell soft and steady, filling her surrounding with that soothing sound of water droplets hitting the ground. Arya was in the house that she shared with the Hound and running a wet stone along the length of her sword with a faint smile donning her face. It was Needle.  
  
Needle was Robb and Bran and Rickon, her mother and her father, even Sansa. Needle was Winterfell's grey walls and the laughter of its people. Needle was the summer snows, Old Nan's stories, the heart tree with its red leaves and scary face, the warm earthy smell of the glass gardens, the sound of the north wind rattling the shutters of her room. Needle was Jon Snow's smile.  
  
She retrieved her Needle after she and the Hound had killed Polliver and his men at the Inn at the crossroads. It was there she learned the news of Jon's victory at Casterly Rock.  
  
Once they heard of her brother's survival, they turned east towards the Saltpans, where they can get a sail to the North.  
  
But the Hound was extremely sick to travel thanks to the injuries he suffered at the hands of Polliver and his men. Arya wanted to abandon him to die but before she could take ten steps, they were discovered by a group of men, lead by a Septon. The Septon introduced himself as Septon Meribald and aided them to reach a small village near the Saltpans. The Septon was currently treating Sandor.  
  
“He will be alright to travel in a sennight,” she heard a sudden voice breaking her train of thoughts. She jerked her head and saw Septon Meribald standing over her. He had a seamed, windburnt face, a shock of thick grey hair, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Though a big man, six feet tall, he had a way of hunching forward as he walked that made him seem much shorter. His hands were large and leathery, with red knuckles and dirt beneath the nails, and he had the biggest feet that Arya had ever seen, bare and black and hard as horn.  
  
Arya nodded but kept cleaning her sword. The septon still kept standing above her. “You spend a lot of time with that sword,” she heard him say. “It must be a significant one.”  
  
“It was a present from my brother,” she said without shifting her focus off from the Needle.  
  
The old man chuckled, “Where is your brother now?”  
  
Arya placed the sword carefully on the floor and directed her attention to the old septon. “He is in the North,” she said.  
  
“Is that why you want to go to the North?” he asked and Arya nodded.  
  
“I heard that bastard of Winterfell was sailing towards the North,” the old man said after looking at her with interest for a moment. “Before long there will be a war between him and the Boltons.”  
  
'That's my brother' she wanted to scream at the old man's face but kept silent knowing very well that she can't let out her identity as a Stark. “The Boltons will pay for they did to their countrymen,” she said instead.  
  
“Ahh! I see you are a Stark supporter,” the old man chuckled. “I know this is not what you want to hear, but it's not wise to travel to the North at this time.”  
  
“My brother is the only family I have left,” she told sternly standing up. “I have to find him!”  
  
“I merely wanted to tell the truth, but what you do is up to you,” he announced and left her alone in the house.  
  
She walked over the bed where Sandor was lying still in his bed. “What did he say?” he asked in his gruff voice.  
  
“You'll be fit to travel a sennight,” she said looking at the scarred man before her.  
  
“Good!” he said in between coughs. “The sooner I take you to him the sooner I'll collect the reward and depart from this fucking country.”  
  
As Septon promised, the Hound was back to his old self a sennight later. They traveled to the Saltpans and boarded a merchant vessel sailing to the White Harbour.  
  
  
  


 


	7. Chapter 7

**Dacey Mormont:**  
  
  
  
This is the day. Their initial step to reclaiming the North. They were housed inside the swamps just south of Moat Cailin. Lord Reed informed them that the Ramsay Bolton and his men were now marching to the Moat Cailin with three hundred men. They were aided by the Houses Ryswell and Dustin. It wasn't actually a surprise for Dacey since Roose Bolton's first wife was a Ryswell and Barbrey Dustin, the current head of House Dustin was a Ryswell by birth. A couple of days ago, men from House Ryswell and House Dustin rode to the fever river and burned the Ironborn ships, cutting off their escape.  
  
The Bolton Bastard's army was presently a few leagues away from the castle and the rest of the Bolton army, the men who slaughtered their countrymen in that cursed wedding were now marching from the Twins to the Moat Cailin. They were joined by two thousand of Frey soldiers as well. Lord Reed informed Jon that the Freys were led by Aenys and Hosteen Frey. There was a beaming grin on Jon's face when Lord Howland informed this.  
  
The King in the North instantly ordered the Lord of the Greywater watch to poison the Bolton's food supply and Lord Reed obliged. It wasn't an honorable thing to perform but a necessary one. And the result was considerably more impressive than they had expected. One-fourth of the men were killed, and the others burned the remaining food supply. The fools should have retreated, but the timing of poisoning was done with perfection. The poisoning was carried only three days before thus forcing them to think that marching towards Moat Cailin was a more excellent idea than to retreat back to the Twins. The Bolton army from the south was now exhausted, scared and hungry. This is a significant advantage for Jon.  
  
A sudden sound of someone entering her tent disrupted her train of thoughts. She turned around and saw Jon was standing at the entrance, armored up for the battle and one of the Valyrian Steel swords at his hip. The other sword was sent to Greywater Watch for safeguarding along with Bran and Rickon Stark.  
  
"It's time," he said looking at her.  
  
Dacey nodded, "Let's kill some Boltons."

  
  
**Reek:**  
  
  
  
They gave him a horse and a banner, a soft woolen doublet, and a warm fur cloak, and set him loose. For once, he did not stink. Lord Ramsay's instructions were clear, Reek was to convince the Ironborn inside the Moat Cailin to surrender the castle in return for their lives.

"I will deliver Lord Ramsay the castle. I will. I must," he prayed it himself and trotted forward.  
  
It was a dull day, damp and misty. The wind was from the south, moist as a kiss. The ruins of Moat Cailin were visible in the distance, threaded through with wisps of morning mist. His horse moved toward them at a walk, her hooves making faint wet squelching sounds as they pulled free of the grey-green muck.  
  
"You will pretend to be a prince," Lord Ramsay told him last night, as Reek was soaking in a tub of scalding water, "but we know the truth. You're Reek. You'll always be Reek, no matter how sweet you smell. Your nose may lie to you. Remember your name. Remember who you are."  
  
"Reek," he said. "Your Reek."  
  
"Do this little thing for me, and you can be my dog and eat meat every day," Lord Ramsay had promised and Reek would make his master proud.  
  
After a long ride atop his horse, he reached the gates of Moat Cailin.  
  
"No closer!" a voice rang out. "What do you want?" Reek looked up and saw a man was standing at the top of the battlement, his arrow was trained towards Reek.  
  
"Words." He spurred the stot onward, waving the peace banner so they could not fail to see it. "I come unarmed."  
  
Not long after that, the Ironborn permit him inside the castle. Reek managed to convince them that he was indeed Theon Greyjoy and the Prince of Iron Islands. He also informed them of the offer that Lord Ramsay provided. After a long discussion between them, they accepted and were ready to surrender in return for their lives. Reek escorted them to Lord Ramsay's camp located North of Moat Cailin.  
  
One of Lord Ryswell's sons, Reek knew. Roger, or maybe Rickard. He could not tell the two of them apart. "Is this all of them?" the rider asked from atop a chestnut stallion.  
  
"All who weren't dead, my lord."  
  
They were just outside the camp when the baying of a pack of hounds told of Lord Ramsay's approach. The dogs swarmed around them, snapping and snarling at the strangers. The Bastard' s girls, Reek thought, before he remembered one must never, never, never use that word in Ramsay's presence.  
  
Reek swung down from his saddle and took a knee. "My lord, Moat Cailin is yours. Here are its last defenders."  
  
"So few. I had hoped for more. They were such stubborn foes."  
  
Lord Ramsay's pale eyes shone. Skinner and Sour Alyn and Damon Dance-for-Me, and the Walders Big and Little too were with Lord Ramsay as well. "You must be starved. Damon, Alyn, see to them. Wine and ale, and all the food that they can eat. Skinner, show their wounded to our maesters."  
  
"Aye, my lord."  
  
A few of the Ironborn muttered thanks before they shambled off toward the cookfires in the center of the camp. That night, he heard the screams of men, knowing very what's been happening to them, but he ignored the cries and shoved the dog aside, rolled over and went back to sleep.  
  
The next morning Lord Ramsay dispatched three riders down the causeway to take word to the southern army that the way was clear. The flayed man of House Bolton was hoisted above the Gatehouse Tower, where Reek had hauled down the golden Kraken of Pyke. Along the rotting-plank road, wooden stakes were driven deep into the boggy ground; there the corpses festered, red and dripping. Sixty-three, he knew, there are sixty-three of them. One was short half an arm. Another had a parchment shoved between its teeth, its wax seal still unbroken.  
  
Two days later, they spotted the southern army consisted of Bolton and Frey men. The army was far too little than they had expected. The proud banners of House Bolton and House Frey were flying at the front of the approaching army. They entered the courtyard and Lord Ramsay was angry. Collared and chained and back in rags again, Reek followed with the other dogs at Lord Ramsay's heels when his lordship strode forth to demand answers from the men. Reek wasn't good at counting but he guessed the southern army must be around six to seven hundred than the seven thousand they had expected.  
  
Anger flashed across Lord Ramsay's face. "Where are the remaining men?"  
  
"Dead, my lord," came the reply from the man at the head of the column. He was wearing a helm and leather armor with the Bolton sigil but somehow his voice felt familiar to Reek. One that he heard a long time ago when he was Theon Greyjoy.  
  
"It must be the bog devils," one of Ryswells said. Reek looked at the man at the front and his sinister intense eyes settled on him.  
  
"N....No...Nooooo!!!" Reek muttered. It was then a white shadow leaped out of the supply wagon from behind and killed Sour Alyn by ripping off his throat with its mouth. Suddenly the swords were out, and the men from the south were attacking Lord Ramsay's men inside the castle. Reek closed his ears to muffle the screams of the dying men and ran towards the kennels but was stopped by someone. He struggled and wiggled to get away from his attacker but was only knocked down to the ground. Lying on the dirt he watched as the men from the south attacked and killed Lord Ramsay's men. A man, the one he recognized swung his Valyrian steel sword and cut off Lord Ryswells' head cleanly, the eldest one. Lord Ramsay was thrown at the dirt as well and an enormous man was standing above him as the others killed every occupant in the castle. Several men tried fleeing through the northern gate but were shot with arrows by some men at the top of the tower. They were the Crannogmen of the Neck.  
  
Before long the attack was over. All three hundred of Lord Ramsay's men were butchered without mercy except Lord Ramsay and Reek. In addition, the youngest Ryswell was spared and Lord Ramsay's squires Big and Little Walder Frey as well.  
  
"Theon!" he heard someone growl Reek's former name. It was the man with the Valayrian sword. He came charging towards Reek and a white wolf, no not a wolf, but a direwolf followed him behind. Suddenly Reek was pulled up from the ground and the man with the Valyrian steel sword neared to attack with his sword raised high.  
  
"Don't kill him!" Reek heard a woman's voice, the one who pushed Reek to the ground. She came forward stopping the man with the Valayrian sword from killing poor Reek.  
  
"He deserves to die, Dacey," the man said to the woman.  
  
"We still don't know where are Lady Glover and her children are kept at," the woman said shielding Reek. "We could utilize him."  
  
The man growled and buried his sword into the ground with frustration. "Today is the not the day you die, Theon."  
  
"My name is not Theon," Reek sputtered."I'm not him. I'm not the turncloak, he died at Winterfell. My name is Reek. It rhymes with freak."  
  
The man removed the helm and looked at Reek. He looked older than Reek had remembered. His dark grey eyes...Stark eyes traveled over his body, including the places where Reek had fingers before. "What the fuck happened to you?"  
  
"Looks like he suffered a fate worse than death," the woman said sniffing her nose in disgust. Reek knows he stinks. Dogs stink. It was then he remembered the Bastard's girls. Reek dared to look beyond the man and immediately vomited noticing seven carcasses. It was Lord Ramsay's Bastard girls with whom Reek had shared the kennels. All seven of them were killed. 'Merciless bastards. They killed the poor girls,' he thought and went to the marshy ground, crying.  
  
"Put them in the dungeons," the man said to the woman named Dacey. "I'll deal with them later."  
  
Obeying the command, the woman and a few other men escorted Reek along with Lord Ramsay, his squires and the Lord Ryswell to the Dungeons. The Frey boys cried their lungs out in fear and Reek ignored them. He shifted in his cell and closed his eyes.  
  
Night had fallen in Moat Cailin, and Reek woke up from his sleep hearing the opening sound of the dungeon door. The men who entered unlocked Lord Ramsay's cell and hauled him to somewhere in chains.  
  


  
**Dacey:**  
  
She was in one of the solars at the Gatehouse Tower, the largest of the remaining towers, is squat and wide. It is the only tower which still stands straight, even retaining some of the walls around it. Jon was seated at the head table, and Dacey was standing at his right and his squire Larence Snow on his left.  
  
Dacey felt incredibly satisfied how their war against the Boltons had started. The plan was brilliant, she must accept. She really felt grave for the Andal invaders who had lost their lives in the swamps during the Andal invasion. She only heard the stories of the swamps and the Crannogmen but two days before she witnessed how cruel the swamps could be for the enemies of the North. They had waited in the swamps for the Bolton army to pass through and assaulted them from the flanks. The crannogmen did most of the work and the company of the Rose did the remaining. Later, they disguised themselves as the Bolotons using their armors and shields, and the Bolton Bastard didn't know what was coming. And here they were, waiting to pass the judgment to the traitors.  
  
The door of the chamber opened and the men brought Ramsay Snow. The other prisoners, the Frey boys. Big and Little Walder Frey will be sent to the Night Watch and Rickard Ryswell was still imprisoned. A missive was already sent to his father and if the Ryswells agreed to bend the knee, Lord Rickard Ryswell will be spared. If not, Jon said that the Ryswells would be gone from the history of the North. As for Theon, they decided to wait for the news from Deepwood Motte to arrive.  
  
Ramsay Snow was brought before the King in the North and the guards thrust him on to the floor. Jon took out his Valyrian steel sword which he had named as Winter Fury from the scabbard. He dragged the sword along the floor, causing a shrieking sound which sent chills to Dacey's bones. She for her part joined him on his sides.  
  
"I heard the stories of your triumph at Casterly Rock," the Bolton bastard said with a wicked grin. "Never thought you'd be here."  
  
Jon chuckled, "I'd like to surprise my enemies."  
  
"Can't say I enjoyed this surprise, bastard," Ramsay said and instantly went to the ground after Dacey punched him square on the jaw.  
  
"That's the King in the North, bastard," Dacey announced.  
  
"King in the North, eh?" the Bolton bastard laughed. His mouth was coated with blood. "A bastard king in the South, a bastard king in the North. Looks like our kind can really raise high up in the world." Dacey went to punch him one more time but stopped by Jon.  
  
"I agree," Jon replied placing his sword right at Ramsay's jaw. "And now what am I going to do with you?"  
  
"If you are going to execute me, do it. You are boring me by dragging it long."  
  
"And why would I want to kill you?" Jon asked removing his sword from Ramsay's jaw. "It's your father I want to kill."  
  
The psychopath laughed, "Now, this is getting intriguing. I suppose if I disclose you information and you will let me take the black."  
  
"I don't need any information. We just killed your father's army and if my guess is correct your father now possesses only a few hundred men." Jon smiled at the bastard. "I'll offer something better."  
  
"What about her?" Ramsay said looking at Dacey with a wicked smile. She wanted to slap that grin off his face but restrained by Jon.  
  
"No!" Jon said and went to stand over Ramsay, "Bring me your father alive and bend the knee to me. In return, I'll name you Ramsay Bolton, the Lord of Dreadfort."  
  
Dacey stared at him for a moment in disbelief but kept her mouth shut knowing very well it's unwise to question your king in front of an enemy.  
  
"You want me to betray my father?" the bastard asked.

"Your father betrayed his king, didn't he?" Jon asked nonchalantly. "And think wisely. I host five hundred men here along with two hundred Crannogmen. Almost eight thousand men are currently outside Deepwood Motte. I am to marry Lady Wylla Manderly, and that will give me another four thousand men. By the end of this moon, I'll have almost fifteen thousand men ready to march against Dreadfort."  
  
"That's an impressive number," Ramsay agreed, smiling. "but my father must have reached Winterfell by now."  
  
Jon's face twisted in anger but quickly he composed himself. "That doesn't change anything. One way or another I'll take back Winterfell and it's up to you whether you should die with your father or not?"  
  
Ramsay looked like he was considering it. After a moment he looked up, "If I do this, will you do what you have promised?"  
  
"If you bent the knee and pledged your fealty to me of course," Jon reminded the Bolton Bastard. "Make up some lies of how you have lost your army and get closer to him. I'll march against Winterfell soon and by the time we reach, I want Roose Bolton bound and gagged at my feet."

"How can I trust you?" the bastard asked.  
  
"Do you have any other choice?" Jon answered with a question of his own. "If you don't do what I asked then you are no use to me."  
  
"Fine!" the Bolton bastard agreed. "But I want my Reek."  
  
"Why do you require him?"  
  
"My father wouldn't believe me if I went without Reek."  
  
"What of the other prisoners?"  
  
"They have a mind of their own, and that will disrupt my plan but Reek," the Bolton Bastard trailed."Reek will do anything I demand without a question.  
  
Jon considered it for a moment, "Fine but I demand you to keep him alive."  
  
Ramsay nodded with a cruel smile. "Then I accept your offer, Your Grace."  
  
"A few of my men will come and escort you outside the castle by early morning. Beyond that it's up to you," Jon said and nodded at the guards who escorted Ramsay to his cells.  
  
"Larence, get out!" Dacey shouted as soon the guards escorted Ramsay to his cell. The squire looked at his king who in turn nodded. Larence left the solar leaving Dacey alone with Jon.  
  
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" she growled at Jon's face.  
  
"It's a gamble," he replied simply and took his seat. "I want to take back Winterfell without a battle and if Ramsay succeeds, there won't be a battle."  
  
"You do realize he is a monster, right?" Dacey said in anger. "You heard what that bastard did to Lady Donella Hornwood."  
  
"I know," Jon sighed and looked at her. "I promised that I would name Ramsay as the Lord of Dreadfort but I never said anything about letting him live."  
  
Dacey stared at the man before her in disbelief. 'Where did that innocent bastard that she had encountered years before had gone?'  
  
Without any hesitation she rushed over to him and crushed her lips to his, placing her legs on either side of his lap and grinding herself against him. His hands came up to her arse and forced her body against him. It was then she heard sudden knocks outside the door and Dacey swiftly withdrew herself from his lap.  
  
"Enter," Jon shouted and Lord Howland Reed came through the door.  
  
"I received a raven from White Harbor, Your grace." Dacey looked at the crannogman and waited for him to explain.  
  
He gave the scroll to Jon, "Two thousand men and twenty ships from the South were docked at White Harbor."  
  
"Lannisters?" she asked.  
  
"No," it was Jon who replied and threw the scroll on the desk."Stannis Baratheon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and please drop the comments. it's the only thing that kept the fanfic writers going.


	8. Chapter 8

**Ser Davos:**  
  
His ears were filled with waves of laughter and music. He was at the Mermen's court and attending a feast, that was arranged to celebrate the news they heard earlier in the day. Lord Eddard Stark's natural born son had been crowned as the new King in the North by his lords and won a great victory at Moat Cailin.  
  
It's been nearly a sennight since King Stannis and his army arrived at the White Harbor, in hopes of forging an alliance with Ned Stark's naturally born son against the Lannisters. It was the Red Priestess who counseled the King to sail North. _"I saw it in the flames,"_ she had whispered that night, moons ago. _"I saw a boy with Wolf's face and a fiery Stag alongside him."_  
  
For the first time in Davos' life, he had to agree with the Red Priestess. There was nothing for King Stannis in the South, not anymore. He lost his men at the Battle of Blackwater and retreated to Dragonstone. It was then they heard the fall of Casterly Rock and after Lady Melisandre's counsel, they set sail for the North. They were instantly surrounded by one hundred ships from the White Harbor as they neared the port.  
  
King Stannis sent Ser Davos to negotiate with the White Harbor while the King's fleet was anchored a few leagues away from the port, still surrounded by the Manderly's fleet.  
  
Davos sailed to the city and met with the Lord Wyman Manderly. He explained that King Stannis seek an audience with Jon Snow and Lord Wyman immediately sent the raven. Lord Manderly made it clear that the White Harbor stands with the Starks and if King Stannis tried to wrong them, he and his army will be sent, drowning.  
  
Lord Wyman also told Davos that he was in constant communication with Lord Howland Reed and sort of hinted that King Stannis shouldn't expect the Northerners to kneel before him. Davos didn't understand Lord Wyman's words then but the raven they received today made him realize. Apparently, the boy was crowned as the King in the North weeks before but kept the information secret until now.  
  
There were two messages. One for the Manderlys and another for King Stannis. The boy agreed to meet with the King at Moat Cailin. Ser Davos instantly sailed to the spot where his King's fleet was anchored.  
  
Stannis wasn't thrilled when he saw the name, 'Jon Stark, King in the North' on the scroll but wisely grasped the situation. They have less than two thousand men and no castle to house their forces while the newly crowned King in the North almost has eight thousand men currently and the might of White Harbor will join him soon, racking up his numbers to twelve thousand.  
  
The Baratheon fleet was then allowed to dock and the men were presently establishing a camp outside the city. Lord Manderly invited the King for a feast but Stannis wasn't in the mood to attend it. He sent Davos in his stead. Thankfully, Lord Wyman understood the situation and honored Davos by arranging a seat for him at the high table.  
  
"To the King in the North!" the Lord of White Harbor announced proudly raising his wine cup high in the air. The crowd erupted with the same slogan. There were happiness and hope on their faces.  
  
The Lord of White Harbor then raised his hands, and the crowd went silent. "In this joyous occasion, I'd also like to announce proudly that my granddaughter Lady Wylla of House Manderly is now betrothed to marry the King in the North." The crowd once again erupted in happiness as the lady of the occasion Lady Wylla made her way towards the high table, smiling broadly. The girl has blond hair, longer than her sister Wynafryd's. She dyed it a garish green and wears it in a braid, but leaves her eyebrows blond.  
  
Davos seated in silence as the celebrations begun. After a long night of festivities, he made his way to King Stannis' camp.  
  
  
  
**Reek:**  
  
  
  
The journey back to Winterfell was silent. The men who attacked Lord Ramsay and his men gave them two horses and some food for the journey. Reek didn't know why the Stark men let Lord Ramsay free but Reek knew better not to question his master.  
  
As they approach the gates of Winterfell, Lord Ramsay told Reek to keep his mouth shut and agree with him. Winterfell is a huge castle complex spanning several acres and protected by two massive walls. Reek could see there were hundreds of men inside the castle and across the battlements. They were received by a half a dozen and later escorted towards the Lord's solar. The solar that was belonged to the man, who Reek once wanted to call as his father. He was gone, so was Robb and along the way, Theon had gone as well. The guards opened the door, and Reek noticed two figures inside the chambers. One he recognized instantly. It was Lord Roose Bolton, the lord of Dreadfort and Warden of the North.  
  
The Lord of the Dreadfort did not have a strong likeness to his bastard son. His face was clean-shaved, smooth-skinned, ordinary, not handsome but not quite plain. Though Roose had been in battles, he bore no scars. Though well past forty, he was as yet unwrinkled, with scarce a line to tell of the passage of time. His lips were so thin that when he pressed them together they seemed to vanish altogether. There was an agelessness about him, a stillness; on Roose Bolton’s face, rage and joy looked much the same. All he and Ramsay had in common were their eyes. His eyes are ice. Reek wondered if Roose Bolton ever cried. If so, do the tears feel cold upon his cheeks?  
  
Once, a boy called Theon Greyjoy had enjoyed tweaking Bolton as they sat at the council with Robb Stark, mocking his muted voice and making japes about leeches. He must have been mad. This is no man to jape with. You had only to look at Bolton to know that he had more cruelty in his pinky toe than all the Freys combined.  
  
“Father,” Lord Ramsay knelt before his sire.  
  
Lord Roose surveyed him for a moment. “You may rise.”  
  
Alongside the Lord of the Dreadfort remain a woman. The woman was short and very fat, with a round red face and three chins wobbling beneath a sable hood. “My new wife,” Roose Bolton said. “Lady Walda, this is my natural son. Kiss your stepmother’s hand, Ramsay.”  
  
Lady Bolton slowly approached Lord Ramsay and offered her hand. Lord Ramsay did as his father told and then looked at his father.  
  
"You may leave, my lady." Lord Bolton commanded and she obeyed.  
  
Lord Roose's eyes scanned lord Ramsay and finally settled on Reek. "Take a seat," he told looking at his son.  
  
The Lord of Dreadford then poured three cups of wine offering one to Lord Ramsay and another one to Reek. "You forget your manners, Reek?" Lord Ramsay said looking at Reek.  
  
"Dogs don't drink wine, Lord Bolton," Reek said and declined the wine cup.  
  
The Lord of Dreadfort smiled his cruel smile and placed the wine glass on the desk. "What happened?"  
  
"Lady Dustin lied!" Lord Ramsay replied sipping his wine. "She informed me that there was only a handful of ironborn at Moat Cailin."  
  
"How many were there?"  
  
"Ned Stark's bastard already defeated them and ambushed my men posing as the Ironborn."  
  
Lord Bolton regarded his son for a moment, "It looks like he followed his brother's footsteps, misdirecting his enemy."  
  
Lord Ramsay nodded, "And our allies aided him."  
  
"We don't know that," Lord Bolton's dismissed. "Lady Dustin bears a grudge against the Starks."  
  
"She bears a grudge against Ned Stark, not the Starks."  
  
"How did you escape?" Lord Ramsay's father asked.  
  
"I was in the back, commanding my men. As soon as I felt that the battle was lost, I retreated."  
  
"Just you and your pet?"  
  
"Damon was with us as well but the crannogmen men struck him with poisoned arrows during our escape."  
  
"So, the entire North is against us?"  
  
"We'll send them to the seven hells, father."  
  
"We will," Lord Bolton assured and refilled Lord Ramsay's cup. "You should travel to the Dreadfort tomorrow."  
  
"But I'm needed here," Lord Ramsay replied but his voice was strange.  
  
"You will do what I say."  
  
"fa...father," Lord Ramsay stuttered.  
  
"You alright?"  
  
Ramsay jerked his head, clutching his neck. "I'm j... jus... merely tired from the wearisome journey."  
  
"Then why don't you take some rest?"  
  
"I .. I will... You .. You poisoned me!" Lord Ramsay exclaimed, choking.  
  
"Not yet," the Lord of Dreadfort replied politely. Suddenly Lord Ramsay was up from his seat and jumped across the desk with a dagger in his hands. Lord Bolton moved as swift as a stag and Lord Ramsay was sent to the floor. Before he could come up to defend himself, Lord Bolton hit him with his boots on the back of Lord Ramsay's head.  
  
"Guards!" Lord Bolton shouted and three men entered the solar.  
  
"This dog tried to assassinate me," he said looking at his son. "Transport him to the dungeons!"  
  
The guards followed their Lord's orders and dragged Lord Ramsay from the solar, leaving Reek alone with the Bolton lord.  
  
"And what am I going to do with you, Prince Theon?"  
  
"My name is not Theon. It's reek and it rhymes with weak."  
  
Lord Ramsay's father looked at Reek with a cruel smile and walked towards him with a dagger. "So, Reek," he addressed. "Tell me what really happened at the Moat Cailin."  
  


 

* * *

  
  
  
Night fell over the Winterfell and snows started to fell down from the sky. Reek was once more in the chains, being dragged from his cage to the dungeons where Lord Ramsay was imprisoned. The guards pushed Reek on the ground and it took a moment for him to stand up. His eyes widened when he saw Lord Ramsay was tied onto a cross, similar to the one which he used to discipline Reek. Reek tried to move towards his master but stopped when he heard someone clearing his throat. Reek snapped his head and saw Lord Bolton was seated on a chair. There were several knives before him on the desk.  
  
"Remove the gag from his mouth," he said looking at Reek. He obeyed and removed Lord Ramsay's gag.  
  
"Father!" Lord Ramsay roared. "What are you doing?"  
  
"What should I have done long ago?"  
  
"I'm your only son father."  
  
"Not anymore!" the warden of the North replied. "My wife is with a child. My true born child."  
  
"Why are you doing this?"  
  
"Did you take me for a fool, Ramsay?" Lord Bolton questioned. "What did the bastard of Winterfell offer you?"  
  
"He didn't offer me anything. We escaped."  
  
"I wish I could believe you," Lord Boltons said sharpening his knives one by one. The sharpening sound scared Reek.  
  
"Whatever Reek informed you, he lied."  
  
"That pet of yours reported me nothing," It was the truth. Reek didn't tell Lord Bolton anything except what Lord Ramsay told. "But you killed the one person whom I loved most in my life and did you seriously think I will allow you to get away with that?"

"I didn't kill Domeric. He was poisoned by his enemies," Lord Ramsay pleaded. "You require my help to defeat the bastard, father."  
  
"I doubt he will attack me if he came to know that I have his favorite sister as a hostage," the Lord of Dreadfort answered and knelt before Lord Ramsay's cross. "Let's start from the legs. Shall we?"  
  
The night was filled with Lord Ramsay's screams. Reek watched in horror as Lord Bolton skinned his son alive from head to toe.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. 
> 
> Comments are most welcome.


	9. Ser Kevan & Ser Davos

**Ser Kevan Lannister:**  
  
"You called for me, brother?" Kevan asked entering the hand of the King's private solar. Tywin was seated on his chair and tons of scrolls laid out before him.  
  
Tywin nodded and signaled Kevan to sit. "Jaime managed to capture the Riverrun without any losses. The garrison surrendered."  
  
Kevan observed that his brother wasn't happy. "But?"  
  
Tywin looked at him. "Blackfish escaped," he said coldly. That was tragic news. Blackfish was veteran of many wars and an enemy the Lannisters couldn't afford right now.  
  
Kevan sighed. This is getting worse and worse. "He will go to the North," he said after thinking about it for a few moments. "What news we have on Jon Snow?"  
  
"We know the boy has reached the North. Other than that we have nothing."  
  
"Do you think he crowned himself as the new King in the North?"  
  
"Highly possible," Tywin replied grimly. "The Northerners worship the Starks and they'll follow the Ned Stark's bastard over any other High Lords." Kevan nodded as Tywin passed a scroll from his desk. "We have received a report that Stannis' fleet was sailing towards the North."  
  
Kevan read the scroll and passed it back to Tywin. "Stannis is a proud man. He wouldn't form an alliance if the Northerners declared Jon Snow as their King."  
  
Tywin bobbed his head in denial, "But Stannis is a desperate man now. We can't rule out anything."  
  
Kevan nodded in understanding, "The last time the Baratheons and the Starks joined their hands, they took down the greatest empire Westeros has ever seen."  
  
"We'll be prepared for them," his brother assured.  
  
Kevan sighed, "I don't know how many lives will be lost before the end of this war."  
  
"How the marriage preparations are going?" Tywin questioned further changing the topic. The wedding of King Tommen and Lady Margaery is to take place in a fortnight.  
  
"As planned," Kevan replied directly.  
  
"Good. Any chance I could persuade you to remain after that?" Tywin wasn't thrilled when Kevan informed him that he had planned to leave for Lannisport after the wedding. To his Home, his Wife.  
  
"If you command me to stay, I'll obey," Kevan stated clearly.  
  
"You are not someone that I can command, Kevan," said Tywin in an exhausting voice. "You are my brother. The only man in the world that I trust most."  
  
Kevan sighed, "I'm honored, brother. But I lost my son." Tears threatened to form in his eyes. His son, Willem was murdered by Rickard Karstark in retribution for Lady Stark letting Jaime free. Kevan was devastated when he has heard the news but suppressed his grieving till now. “I need some time to grieve his death, and it's been a long since I had seen my wife and my newborn daughter."  
  
“You are not the only one who lost a son in this cursed war, Kevan,” Tywin announced coldly. Kevan stayed in silence and looked at his brother. His brother observed his look and shook his head, “Are you going to accuse me of Tyrion's murder like Jaime did.”  
  
“I know you didn't kill him but you and me both know who did?”  
  
Tywin sighed in annoyance, “I can't accuse the Queen reagent without any proof, Kevan.”  
  
Kevan nodded, “You need to send her away from the capital. From what I saw of Joffrey, it's sensible to separate Tommen from his mother.”  
  
"On that, we can agree," Tywin said. “If you insist on leaving. Take Cersei as well.”  
  
“She will not accept.”  
  
“Leave that to me,” Tywin replied and it was then they heard a couple of knock on the door from the other side.  
  
"Enter," Tywin shouted and the maester who aided Jaime, Qyburn was his name entered the solar and bowed before Tywin.  
  
"My Lord Hand," he greeted."It's completed."  
  
Tywin next looked at Kevan, "Walk with me, Kevan." Kevan did as told and followed his brother. The three of them passed through the Red keep in silence. "What do you know of Daenerys Targaryen?" Tywin asked breaking the silence.  
  
"I heard the stories of three dragons, and she conquered the Slaver's bay," Kevan answered.  
  
"I'm afraid that's true. The girl is currently in Meereen, ruling as it's Queen."  
  
"And doing a terrible job at it from what I heard," Qyburn added which made both Tywin and Kevan to a halt.  
  
"Explain?" Tywin asked.  
  
Qyburn nodded, "The girl abandoned the cities after sacking them. Without proper leadership, there was a revolt and both cities were completely destroyed. If the rumors are true, the rebellion has spread to Meereen as well."  
  
"We could utilize this information," Tywin said barely thinking for a moment. "Spread the news to the small folks, and she will not have any support in Westeros."  
  
Kevan nodded, "Still the girl is of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, and I do not think she will be content to dwell in Meereen forever. If she should reach these shores, we have to be prepared for it."  
  
"You are right, Ser Kevan," Qyburn replied modestly and directed them towards the dungeons. The same dungeon where the skulls of Targaryen dragons were kept at. He took them towards the far end to the skull of Balerion the dread.  
  
"This is Balerion. The biggest dragon ever lived in Westeros," Qyburn explained and asked them to follow him. There was some device, covered with a silk canopy. The disgraced maester removed the silk and revealed a large crossbow-like device.  
  
"It is a Scorpion," Kevan said observing the device. "The Dornish operated a device like this to kill the Dragon Meraxes."  
  
Qyburn nodded, "The Dornish used the normal Scorpion, that was designed to break the siege instruments, Ser Kevan. I improved it and designed this one precisely to kill the Dragons."  
  
Qyburn then took out an iron bolt from the floor and placed it on the device. He subsequently fired the Scorpion and it's bolt pierced Balerion's skull easily. Tywin and Kevan then followed Qyburn to the skull and saw the bolt was passed cleanly along the length of the skull.  
  
"We require dozens of these to bring down the three dragons," Kevan announced looking the maester.  
  
"I can produce hundreds, Ser Kevan," the maester said proudly."I'm willing to share the design as well... for a price."  
  
"If the girl is intelligent, she'll stay on the other side on the narrow sea," Tywin said examining the bolt's impact on the skull. "If not, we will send her to her ancestors."

 

 

 

  
  
 **Ser Davos:**  
  
It wasn't snowing, and Davos was glad for it. They were on their way to Moat Cailin to meet the new King in the North along with the procession of two thousand of King Stannis' men and another four thousand of Lord Manderly's men. Davos was at the head of the column along with his King and Lord Manderly, who was telling them the stories of the North and the Starks. Stannis wasn't interested but kept listening none the less.  
  
"How far are we from Moat Cailin, Lord Manderly?" King Stannis asked.  
  
"We will reach in two days, King Stannis," the plump lord answered. The king nodded and proceeded to lead his procession.  
  
Several hours had passed, and the sun was setting on the horizon. "We should establish the camp," King Stannis announced.  
  
"That'd be wise," Lord Manderly acknowledged and commanded his men to construct the camp for the night. It was then they heard several horses galloping towards them. It was the scouts sent by Lord Manderly. There were also new figures among them. Lord Manderly instantly climbed down from his horse and slowly walked towards the approaching men. One man caught Davos' attention. He was a very fat man, bald and with a large walrus mustache. He was wearing the armor with the Manderly's sigil. A white merman with dark green hair, beard, and tail, carrying a black trident, over a blue-green field. Lord Manderly walked directly towards him and pulled him into an embrace. It must be Ser Wylis Manderly, Davos deduced. Lord Manderly's son who was a prisoner at Harrenhall but freed by Jon Snow in return for handing the Casterly Rock over to the Lannisters.  
  
Lady Wylla also went rushing towards her father and clutched her father tightly, sobbing onto his neck.  
  
King Stannis climbed down from his horse and approached the recent arrivals.  
  
"How many men did you kill at Moat Cailin?" Davos heard Lady Wylla inquiring her father.  
  
"Not enough, sweetling." Ser Wylis replied and his eyes found the King and Davos behind his father. Lord Manderly caught the notion and turned around.  
  
"This is Ser Wylis Manderly, King Stannis," the fat lord introduced his son proudly."My son and heir."  
  
"It's an honor to meet you, Your Grace," Ser Wylis said and bowed."I brought orders from my King."  
  
Davos heard Stannis grinding his teeth but thankfully he kept silent. "Go on," he commanded.  
  
"You and your family are welcome to Moat Cailin," Ser Wylis said handing King Stannis a letter. "You are allowed to bring only two hundred of your men as an escort but other than that the rest of your men will stay here."  
  
"How can I trust the boy with my life and that the life of my family? Stannis questioned, and Davos instantly felt the men around him stiffened. _"Very poor choice of words,"_ Davos thought.  
  
The men were silent, and it was Lady Wylla who opened her mouth, "You are in the North, Your Grace. And the boy you mentioned is our King and my husband to be. You must remember that."  
  
"I'm the rightful King of Westeros," Stannis said stubbornly looking at the green haired girl.  
  
"We should get on with the camp," Ser Davos intervened before this escalates into anything further. "We will discuss other things over dinner."  
  
Both the Manderlys nodded, thankfully. After making sure that everything was set, Davos found himself near the Lord Manderly's tent. "Ser Davos of House Seaworth. Here to meet Lord Manderly," he announced to the guards.  
  
One of the guards entered the tent and came back a few moments later. "Lord Manderly will see you, Ser Davos."  
  
Davos nodded and entered the tent. There were three figures inside the tent. Lord Manderly, his son Ser Wylis and Lady Wylla Manderly.  
  
"Ser Davos!" the fat lord greeted. "Please, come and sit with us."  
  
"I apologize for King's behavior earlier," Davos said depositing himself on the cushion. "He is in a bad place."  
  
"There is nothing to apologize for, Ser Davos. I understand his position," Lord Manderly brushed it off.  
  
"Bless you for understanding, my lord." Davos then towards the only woman inside the tent. "And you, my lady. You are a fierce woman."  
  
The girl smiled. Lord Manderly brushed her hair tenderly, "My Wylla is a fierce girl and she will do her duty as one of the Queens."  
  
"Queens?" Davos questioned, confused.  
  
All three of them smirked at him, "Yes, Ser Davos. Our king has planned to take three wives and thus uniting the North with his marriages," Lord Manderly announced as if it wasn't a big thing.  
  
"My daughter will be one of the queens, and my grandson will be the next King in the North," Ser Wylis explained. "Lady Meera Reed's children will bear the surname Greenstark and will rule the Moat Cailin. Lady Alys Karstark's children would be the Karstarks of Karhold." It took several moments for Davos to process the information.  
  
"Tell me, Ser Davos," the lady asked him, observing his stunned look. "How many noble families in the South offered their daughters as mistresses to the past Kings?" It's true that several noble families in the South offer their daughters to be King's whores and they did it willingly.  
  
"A lot, my lady," Davos answered simply.  
  
The girl smiled, "But we won't be whores but the Queens."  
  
Davos shook his head with a smile. "You would make a good queen, my lady or should I call, your grace."  
  
"You are a good man, Ser Davos and I hope your King will show some respect to our king," Lord Manderly said filling a cup with wine. "If not, Winter will come for House Baratheon." Gone the jovial man that he had been talking with. Sitting in front was the Lord of the only city in the North and the grandfather of the future queen.  
  
Davos nodded and then went on to discuss the logistics for their travel. Stannis has agreed to bring two hundred men with him after a lot of discussions.   
  
Two Days later, they approached the gates of Moat Cailin and Davos immediately sensed several eyes on them. A thin man who introduced himself as Lord Howland Reed offered them bread and salt. He escorted them to the courtyard where hundreds of men and a woman gathered to receive them. His eyes instantly went to the man standing at the front in leather armor and a massive white wolf beside him.  
  
The woman alongside him took a couple of steps forward and cleared her throat. "You are in the presence of the King in the North Jon Stark, King of the Andals and the First Men of the North and the commander of the Company of the Rose," she announced in the booming voice.  
  
Ser Davos took a couple of steps forward just like the woman did and cleared the throat. "You are in the presence of the King Stannis of House Baratheon, the rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and the protector of the Realm."  
  
The King in the North then stepped forward, virtually seeing King Stannis eye to eye. "It's an honor to finally meet you, King Stannis."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Up: A Wedding.


End file.
